


Detroit: Become GAY

by TheVelvetStorian



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game), Les Misérables (2012), Once Upon a Time (TV), The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Captain Hook is a confused gay, Connor is just gay, Crack Crossover, Crack Relationships, Crack Treated Seriously, Everyone Is Gay, Except Dylan, Grantaire is a drunk gay as usual, I sincerely apologize if your name is Dylan, Lots of alcohol, M/M, Murder, The Boogieman has a coffee addiction, The Boogieman is their gay stalker, This uses the word "mate" way too many freaking times, What Have I Done, Why Did I Write This?, no one asked for this, sometimes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2019-08-07 23:47:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16418372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheVelvetStorian/pseuds/TheVelvetStorian
Summary: Have you ever just wondered, “What would happen if Captain Hook, the Boogeiman, a drunk gay Frenchman and Connor the android sent by CyberLife happened to meet in a bar one night?”If you have, well first of all what the fuck. But second of all, this fic is for you. Please don’t kill me over this, I honestly couldn’t tell you what I must’ve been high on when I wrote this.





	1. Gay Violence

**Author's Note:**

> Did someone say fandom crack fic? No?? Well, too bad, here’s one anyway.  
> This is by far the weirdest thing I’ve ever written.  
> This was also originally a roleplay that I did with my three weirdest friends which I converted into fic form for...some reason…  
> So uh yeah, here’s a thing.
> 
> [Grantaire was written by me, Hook was written by Chronicle Magpie, Connor was written by Moonlark, Oogie was written by Spacey Artist]

Late at night in Detroit, MI, the year 2038, four completely unrelated stories were about to collide in a way that they never should have. The first was that of an android, another that of a pirate, the third that of a monster in disguise as a regular gambler, and the fourth of a young recent college graduate. It was a mystery how they all managed to be in the same place at the right time, but heaven knew it would be utter fucking chaos for the rest of the world. 

 

~~<><><>~~

 

Grantaire walked the short distance from his work to the bar he knew well by this point, having been there every night he could nearly since graduation. He was a little tired and grumpy, but he was counting on the alcohol to change that, or at least make it a little better. He pulled his jacket tighter against the chilly breeze as he stepped in an took a seat at the bar.

There weren't many other people in the place, which he supposed was a good thing; less of the judgmental looks he knew so well by now. R grabbed his wallet and sighed in mild frustration at the measly amount of cash inside. He would only be able to afford _ maybe _ two drinks, he was so broke.  _ Damn student loans, _ he thought to himself. He ordered the cheapest whiskey the bar offered and scanned the small place idly.

  
  


Hook was sitting alone in a seat almost all the way across the bar from him, drinking a glass of rum as per usual, already fairly buzzed. He was being deliberately antisocial tonight, seeing as he had only just returned to this world and all he really wanted to do was find a way back.

  
  


Oogie was looking around the bar carefully, seeing if there was anyone he’d guess to be dumb enough to gamble away their life. He made his way over to a dark-haired man in unusual black clothing sitting alone in the back of the place, thinking he might gamble away his life just for the heck of it. 

“Hey there old man, you wanna gamble? I promise it will be the time of your life, hehahaa!~”

 

Hook looked up in apparent mild surprise when he was suddenly spoken to. The guy looked to him like some kind of street urchin, with matted hair, worn and thin mismatched clothing, and an unsettling and slightly wild smile. "Are you sure you want to do that, mate? I never lose." He assured him, trying not to be offended by what the stranger had called him.

 

“I’m sure, ‘mate’, you’ll come to find that I never lose, either,” Oogie replied with a knowing smirk, trying to entice Hook to prove him right.

  
  


R glanced over at the strange pair a few seats down from him, watching the exchange with a sideways look of mild amusement. 'Mate'? He snickered a little less than quietly at the rather uncommon term as he took a long drink of his whiskey.

 

“What're you looking at, boy? Mind your business." Oogie snapped at him once he noticed his staring.

 

R just raised his eyebrows a bit, unable to hide the amused smiled growing on his lips. He shook his head at the guy’s defensiveness, looking away again without a word. However, it was obvious that he was laughing at them. He took another long swig.

 

Oogie scowled at R as an interesting idea occurred to him. He returned his attention to Hook. “Hey, ‘mate’, I believe that guy over there is laughing at you,” Oogie said in a slightly overly emphatic tone, a fun plan now in mind.

 

Hook set his glass down and turned to R for the first time, looking him over. Mid-twenties, unruly black curly hair, a light smattering of faint freckles across his face, and in a white button up under a gray overcoat. Then he finally spoke up. "Do you have a problem, mate?" He asked, already annoyed at having had his sulking interrupted.

 

“Yeah, I knew you weren't gonna let that runt laugh at you like that." Oogie taunted Hook quietly, egging him on.

 

R sat up straighter and looked back at the two at Oogie's words. His expression showed mild surprise, but he answered the accusation with plenty of snark. 

"What, me? Why, of course not, 'mate'." He mimicked the other's accent mockingly.

 

Oogie took a step back to watch the 'magic’ happen with a shit-eating smirk on his face.

 

"Do you have a problem with me?” Hook repeated, more directly this time. “Because I am more than willing to settle it." He stood up, walking closer to R. It had been a while since he’d gotten into such trouble, but he hardly cared, in his current mood.

 

As things began to heat up, Oogie brought attention to the fight that was about to begin and started gambling with the other now-curious bar patrons. He started talking a little louder, just so that R could hear him. 

"I'm betting on the loner, that puny runt won't even put up a fight."

 

R glanced over at Oogie, hearing him and narrowing his eyes in an offended scowl. However, he chose not the address that. Instead, he focused on Hook. "As I said, not at all. Your hearing aid must be acting up, though, so I’ll let it go." Taire, miraculously, managed to keep a relatively straight face and push down the laugh that wanted to escape him as he answered Hook. "You go back to your gambling, especially since you 'always win'. Y'know, I'd actually _ love _ to see that." His tone toward Hook was condescending, almost teasing. R wasn't backing down, even though he knew this wouldn't end well. He could just imagine how Jehan would be scolding him for getting himself into unnecessary fights. 

 

Hook looked back over at Oogie, also hearing his words. "I always put up a fight, mate. Always."

 

Oogie smirked back devilishly, knowing the fight would soon begin. "Good, cause I'm counting on it, 'mate’." He sneered, encouraging his aggression.

 

Grantaire glared at Oogie. "I'm afraid there's nothing to bet on. I mean, come on, I can't fight him! I couldn't hit a  _ senior citizen _ , what kind of person would I be?" He looked Hook in the eye with just the cheekiest smirk, knowing what a little shit he was being.

 

Hook stood there glaring at R, clenching the one fist he had and staring him down with the darkest and most threatening look he could muster. He was honestly, at this point, at a complete loss for a response.

 

R raised an eyebrow. "Nothing to say, old man? Fine." The young man smirked as he turned back to face the bar, finishing his drink smugly and thinking he'd won. He’d managed to improve his mood, after all, he thought to himself with some surprise. However, he didn’t yet realize that matters weren’t entirely settled.

 

People in the bar started handing each other money, but not Oogie. He knew it wasn’t over yet, and his eyes glinted with malice and anticipation as he continued to watch the show with his arms crossed.

 

"Not speechless, just thinking, mate." Hook said, recovering from his speechlessness and sitting next to Grantaire at the bar, begrudgingly.

  
  


As this all unfolded, Connor was patrolling the area just outside the bar. He happened to glance in the window and saw (judging by the expressions of a few people inside) a fight brewing. Suddenly suspicious, he stepped inside the bar to spectate and make sure it didn't get physical.

  
  


"Thinking?" Grantaire asked, looking him over skeptically as if he wasn't sure he believed him. He noted the strange clothing, how he almost looked like he was in costume. "Ohh, I see what's happening here. You're one of those live-action role-players, aren't you?" He laughed derisively. "What are you supposed to be, some pirate or something?" He snorted.

 

"I haven't got a clue what you're talking about.” Hook deadpanned, staring blankly at him. “What in the bloody hell is live action roleplay?" He asked, grabbing a glass-full of rum.

 

At that, Taire actually gave a full laugh, ALOUD. "Right, I see, you can't 'break character'." He continued to snicker. "Sorry," He apologized sarcastically as he ordered a second drink with the last of his cash.

 

Hook was now able to tell more clearly that he was  _ definitely _ being made a fool of. "My name is Killian Jones, better known as Captain Hook of the Jolly Roger.” He growled. “Now, tell me what you’re talking about before things  _ really _ get out of hand." He threatened, pun intended, pulling R toward him with his hook.

 

R tensed up, surprised and startled. "S-shit, you're really serious about this stuff, huh? Okay, man, no need to get violent..." He held his hands out placatingly, simply based on instinct considering the sharp object now directly beneath his chin, before he remembered Oogie's existence and glanced over at him. He would NOT be labeled as weak, knowing he would end up fighting if he had to defend his pride. His eyes flicked back to Hook scowling in his face and he hoped that his slight nerves weren't visible in his eyes.

 

"Serious about what?!" Hook growled, still waiting for an answer. "You are wasting my time, mate." He said, giving up on getting an answer, before punching R in the jaw and standing up the rest of the way from his chair.

 

R gave an "oof" noise and staggered back, surprised at first. However, he quickly recovered and glared fiercely at Hook, rubbing his jaw a little. He paused only briefly before he lunged forward, clocking Hook square in the face and possibly breaking his nose. He wasn't usually one for  _ physical _ confrontation, at least not when it was unplanned and sloppy like this, but he couldn't NOT fight back when he'd been targeted first.

 

Oogie smirked devilishly as he watched. "Oh, wow! What an outstanding performance!" He applauded. The crowd started cheering them on, upping their bets and making new ones now that the stakes had been raised.

 

Hook stumbled backward, not having expected R to be that strong. It took him but a minute to regain his stability and return to his prior stance, and swung at R again right away.

 

He ducked this time, stepping behind Hook and smiling at seeing him stumble forward, swinging at nothing. He glanced around at the bar’s occupants, noting a police android frowning at them from the sidelines, and thought better of continuing the fight inside. He backed toward the door, giving Hook a taunting smile.

 

Hook quirked his eyebrow, watching him with a dark look. "Done already?" He asked a bit smugly, following R’s footsteps toward the door.

 

"Why, of course not. I'm just trying to be discreet." Taire nodded subtly at the police android behind Hook and to his left as he continued to back toward and out the door.

 

Hook continued to follow, attempting to swing at him again a couple more times as they made their way out of the establishment under the watch of the gamblers.

 

R ducked out of the way with each swing, proving to be nimbler and faster than Hook would’ve anticipated. Once they were out in the small paved area in front of the bar, he stopped backing up and lunged at Hook again. This time his fist made partial contact with his cheekbone-- a sloppy hit, for sure, but a hit nonetheless.

  
  


Connor followed them outside and walked briskly over to the two men, forcefully shoving them apart before the fight could escalate further. He turned his attention first to Hook, putting a hand out to keep him from advancing. 

"I strongly advise against hurting this man, or I will have no choice but arrest you." He then turned to R. "That goes for you, as well."

 

Oogie was slightly disappointed at the interruption and likely end to his fun, but he still wanted a good laugh. As he observed the scene from afar, another devious plan began formulating itself in his mind.

  
  


R scowled, but looked down. He could NOT afford to be arrested; especially while trying to make a living as an artist, a criminal record would not be helpful. Not to mention that his mom would KILL him and probably never let him move out of Maine again.

 

Hook only briefly tried to push past Connor, ignoring his warning words. It was less about the actual fight now and more a matter of pride. But soon he growled, giving in with the decision that it really didn’t matter all that much and it’d be more of an inconvenience to be arrested. He stood back, glaring at Connor.

 

Connor then, a bit hesitantly, let his hand drop and he stepped aside so R and Hook could see each other again. However, he stayed where he was standing to make sure that they didn’t just resume their fight.

 

Now that everyone was unsuspecting and distracted, Oogie put his plan into action. He gave a smug snap of his fingers, and an unseen force abruptly shoved Hook from behind, throwing him forward.

 

Hook stumbled forward with a short noise of surprise, and he wasn’t able to catch himself before he ran right into R, their lips making brief and involuntary but undeniable contact.

 

R froze in mild shock, his eyes wide as saucers as Hook's mouth connected with his. He didn't even know what to think- do-?! His first thought was of how awkward the situation was. This guy didn't even know his NAME, and they'd just been attacking each other! Luckily, though, it only lasted a moment before he and Hook mutually pushed away from one another. Grantaire had no idea what there was to say now, so he just kind of...stood there, awkwardly.

 

Hook, also shocked, stood in similar awkward silence and seemed unable to even really look at R.

 

R, too, was staring at anything but the other three of them. "Well, if we're done here," he said, directed mainly toward the android, "I'm just gonna go." He hardly gave them a chance to answer before he was walking away briskly, in the direction of the bus station.

 

Oogie was positively  _ dying _ of laughter where he stood several feet away, immensely entertained and proud of his work.

 

Connor watched this with a blank expression, making no move to stop R from leaving and paying no mind to Oogie’s cackling. Once R had gone, the android nodded to Hook in farewell, and with that, he simply turned and walked away.

 

~~<><><>~~

 

Late the next morning, Hook walked down the sidewalk, minding his own business and again keeping mainly to himself; after last night’s  _ ordeal _ , he’d decided that he was going to avoid any more unnecessary interactions until he got back home. He walked into the first diner he came to, which happened to be in the same area as the bar from last night, he noticed, and received a few strange looks in regard to his apparel as he was quickly growing accustomed to. A waitress smiled and escorted him to a seat as he entered.

 

Oogie, unnoticed, had been silently shadowing Hook as he walked. He was intrigued by what an interesting character he was and wanted to see what other fun he could have with him. He, too, got himself a table once he walked into the building, and he continued to observe Hook and his surroundings quietly.

 

Hook ordered a coffee and of course, using his flask, poured a generous amount of rum into it; so much so that it was nearly more rum than coffee by the time he was done with it. He didn’t happen to notice Oogie from his seat, despite his idle scanning of the other restaurant-goers.

 

Oogie looked around the diner and noticed the police robot from last night, the one that had appeared after the fine fiasco he’d caused. He frowned, wondering if that would end up a hindrance to his fun.

 

Connor, meanwhile, seemed to be having a nice time, sitting with his partner and informing him about all of the unnecessary calories that he was consuming.

  
  


Grantaire walked out of the kitchen, staring down at his order book and not paying attention at first. So it wasn't until he was already in full view of all three parties that he realized his immense misfortune. He groaned. Of COURSE the police android, weird gambling guy, and apparent pirate from the night before ALL happened to be sitting in  _ his _ section. They couldn't have sat ANYWHERE else or eaten at ANY other restaurant in all of Detroit, because that's just not how your luck works! He complained to himself in his head as he reluctantly made his way toward the closest of the three, Oogie, to take his order, and prayed that they all just wouldn't recognize him.

 

“Hey, server, over here...hey, hahaha, it's you!” Oogie seemed delighted by this fact.

 

R sighed and rolled his eyes a little. "Yeah. Hi. What do you want?" After what this guy had gotten him into last night, he wasn't gonna spare any energy being nice and polite to him, even if it was his job.

 

"Yeah, I'll take a mocha coffee...and such a rude way to treat your customers." He complained unseriously.

 

Grantaire just scowled at him, writing down the order. "Anything else?"

 

"I dunno, some...entertainment wouldn't be so bad." He smirked.

 

R gave him a very unimpressed look and grumbled. "Do that yourself," as he walked away. He made up his mind to stall as long as possible before getting to the other two dreaded tables.

Taire put Oogie's order through and stood there in the kitchen, watching Hook through the small window in the doors. He rubbed the still-sore spot on his jaw where a noticeable bruise was now forming and glared, dreading having to go over there and take his order civilly. "Might just have to not look at him and pretend I don't know or remember. Maybe the problem will go away." He mumbled to himself, gaining an odd look from the chef behind him in the kitchen.

 

Unfortunately, Killian had been looking around the diner and happened to spot R. He made eye contact with him through the small window, and smirked as he noticed the bruise forming on his jaw.

 

Even more unfortunately for them both, Oogie also noticed them noticing each other and grinned, highly amused at each of their initial reactions. He sat back and watched what he knew would turn out to be the after-effects of his mischief.

 

R's glare deepened when Hook caught his eye and he sighed heavily. "No more avoiding it now," He grumbled and got out his order book, reluctantly making his way over to Hook's table. He glared down at him, not even bothering with the "what can I get you" spiel this time.

 

"Well hello, mate, long time no see." Hook chuckled, immensely enjoying Taire’s annoyance.

  
  


Connor scanned the faces of everyone in the diner in turn, simply for lack of anything better to do, and when he scanned the faces of Oogie and Killian, he discovered couldn't find a match to their faces in the system. He frowned, thinking there must be something wrong with his programming, and then made an instant appointment with CyberLife to have that checked out.

He ran his own diagnostic as well, to see if he could just fix it on his own. Spoiler alert, he couldn't, because Hook and Oogie were not registered citizens, obviously. But Connor didn’t know that, and he was low-key starting to panic. Although, he didn't show his panic in any way except for the fact that his LED was flashing red as he processed the situation.

  
  


"Ugh,” he huffed quietly, “Mhm." R rolled his eyes as he responded and rubbed a little at his sore jaw again.

 

"Aye, well, how was your night after that?" Hook smirked, asking with a tone of clear and slightly overdone false politeness.

 

Taire pursed his lips and made a face. Ugh, that stupid goddamn _ smirk _ . Why was it so infuriating to him?? "Fine. You?" He asked tensely, obviously not as polite as the question should sound.

 

Hook chuckled again, catching the tone of R's voice. "My night was fine as well...mate." He quirked an eyebrow.

 

R sighed again. "Mhm. What can I get you?" He shifted his weight to the other foot, tipping his head a little as he stared at Hook impatiently.

 

"That depends on what you want to get me.~" The pirate winked, enjoying watching R's annoyance grow.

 

Grantaire opened his mouth right away to retort but immediately closed it, scoffing and settling for a scowl. "Seriously?" He huffed and resisted the urge to groan in exasperation at that frigging eyebrow quirk.

 

"Aye, I’m very serious. Mate." He smiled innocently, watching him with intent.

 

Taire just sighed and dropped his head against his fingers, rubbing his forehead. "Y'know what, I'll just come back." And he walked away, shaking his head and grumbling to himself over the unfairness of this situation.

 

"Of course, Mate" Hook smirked as he watched him walk away, feeling accomplished by his work. Hook sipped on his rum-coffee, watching R approach Connor.

 

R was glad to be escaping Hook, that is until he realized that next, he had to check on the table where sat the android that had almost arrested him the previous night, and this time it was with a human cop, too. Just perfect. He cursed under his breath anxiously and started over there, trying to reassure himself by telling himself that robots can't hold grudges or anything like that. It won't think bad of you just by recognizing you as a human cop would unless you continue to cause trouble, stop worrying, it'll be FINE, he told himself.

Grantaire approached the table, trying to hide his nerves since he was sure that the android would be able to scan him or some shit and would know if he was nervous, and he didn't want to make it suspicious. "Hey, you guys doing alright, need any refills or anything?"

 

Hank told the waiter politely  "No thanks, I'm fine." Connor acknowledged him with a head shake but didn't say anything, much more focused on the two apparently nonexistent diner-patrons.

 

Taire just nodded kind of awkwardly. "Okay," and he walked away. Well, at least he hadn't been targeted or arrested. Resigned, he headed back toward Hook's table. "Hi, again. Are you going to order anything?" He crossed his arms.

 

Killian chuckled "Oh, back so soon? Did you miss me?" He said flirtatiously. He smirked, looking up at R and waiting for an answer.

 

R rolled his eyes. "No, of course not. I'm just trying to get away from that police android from last night, it's with a human cop at a table over there," He gestured in their direction. "Y'know, if you're not gonna order anything I could have you removed from the establishment." He threatened unseriously, honestly just curious to see what Hook would say.

 

"Oh? And why would you do that?" Hook said after looking over at the table Hank and Connor were at. He noted with slight discomfort that Connor was staring intensely at him with a blank expression and a red LED.

 

"Because you're annoying." R answered immediately. "And 'cause I can." The corner of his mouth quirked up in a small internally amused smile with the addition of that comment.

 

"Can you? I mean, that’s just bad service, and you wouldn’t want to have any complaints, now, would you? I haven’t even done anything wrong here, mate." Hook said with false innocence.

 

"You're taking up space that could be used for a paying customer, not ordering anything, and pissing off the staff. I'd say that's doing something wrong." Taire pointed out as if it were obvious. "The only reason I'm not going to is that I'm already hanging on by a thread with my boss, and I don’t need to cause any more commotion--" He was suddenly interrupted before he could finish the last word. Someone had just entered the restaurant quite loudly and was waiting at the door purposefully. As Grantaire glanced up to see who it was, the smile dropped from his face and he glared witheringly. "Ugh, fuck. Of course," He cursed and started to move toward the door and the person.

 

As this exchange went on, Oogie was still just enjoying his new favourite form of entertainment, mentally trying to guess what direction events would go in and decide if he should interfere or let things play out.

“Keep the noise down there! I'm trying to enjoy my entertainment,” Oogie called to the newcomer at the door.

 

"Who is that? Why do you seem more upset at his arrival than you are with my presence?" Hook asked curiously, watching the unfamiliar person.

 

"He's no one," Grantaire answered Hook snippily as he headed toward the doors. "Get out, leave. Now. I do not have time for your bullshit today, Dylan. I'm at fucking work, for God's sake!" 

The guy feigned offense. "Look, 'Taire, I'm not here to cause trouble. I just want to talk to you! Is that too much to ask?" The false innocence in the guy's voice was undeniable. 

"Yes!" R snapped. "I don't want to talk to you because, and I thought we'd already covered this, you're creepy and I hate you! Now go away, leave me alone!" 

Dylan sighed and lowered his voice so that only Grantaire would be able to hear his next words. After a couple minutes of quiet arguing, Grantaire still looked pissed but resigned. He stepped over to the host booth and took off his waiter apron thingy, then turned back to Dylan and said something else, clearly still seething. Then they headed for an employee entrance that led out back of the building. R, worrying his lip anxiously, glanced back at Hook pointedly as Dylan went out the door before him, and made sure that he caught his eye.

 

Hook noticed his anxious look and got up, inconspicuously walking out the front exit of the diner before going to the side of the building to listen to the conversation without being noticed.

 

Oogie observed this silent exchange of glances from afar, seeing how this had become much more interesting than he anticipated. With a snap of his fingers, he transported himself to the alley behind the building in a nearly fully concealed hiding place in the shadows to watch.

 

"...give me a chance." Dylan was saying. 

"I have told you countless times, I am _ not. Interested. _ Period! Never will be! Why can't you just leave me the fuck alone, what is your obsession with me?!" R raised his voice, just short of yelling. He angrily shoved Dylan away and just started to turn back toward the door when Dylan stopped him. 

"Hey, WAIT." He commanded forcefully, grabbing Taire's arm and yanking him back toward him. "I wasn’t done." Grantaire tried to shove him away again, but Dylan had a tighter grip on him, now with one hand on his bicep and the other on his opposite shoulder. Dylan was obviously stronger, but Taire still fought back. 

"Get the fuck off me!" He shouted, putting his leg up in an attempt to use his knee to keep Dylan at a distance. As they struggled, he was slammed back into the wall of the building, his head knocking audibly against the concrete. "Get OFF ME!" Taire shouted louder.

 

At that moment, Hook walked around the corner. "You'd come to find that that's not a good idea, mate." Hook warned Dylan, mildly menacingly, walking towards them.

 

Both of them stopped to stare at Hook as he came around the corner. Grantaire looked a mix of annoyed and relieved in response to seeing him, though mostly relieved, and Dylan just looked angry as he still held R pinned roughly and unwillingly to the wall. "Who the hell are you?" Dylan's tone sounded almost disgusted.

 

"Killian Jones," he bowed sarcastically, "Hook will do...now, who are you? And what do you want with him?"

 

Dylan just shook his head a little. "Look, dude, this is none of your business so why don't you leave now and forget it." As Hook had distracted Dylan, Grantaire had been slowly pushing Dylan back and had managed to get himself off of the wall and almost to the point where he could get away. But once Dylan brushed off Hook's distraction and saw that Taire had moved, he shoved him back into the wall again, causing his head and shoulders to slam into the concrete once again with a sound that could be heard even from where Hook was. R yelped in pain and started to slump a little, and he was still using all of his strength to hold Dylan at bay, but it was lessening as his consciousness briefly wavered.

  
  


Connor was still inside, having an existential crisis while Hank munched his cheeseburger, totally oblivious to the altercation going down outside and blissful. Y'know, as much as he could be with all he'd been through. But for how much longer?

  
  


Hook walked closer to where Dylan and R were. "What if you leave instead? Clearly, you’re unwanted and not needed here." This time his tone had a much more threatening ring to it, as did the dark look in his eye.

 

Dylan looked further pissed off that Hook didn't give up. He stepped back from where he stood and basically threw Grantaire back at the wall, then turned to face Hook again. "The hell is your problem, man? Can't you just leave it alone?" His tone was a carefully masked warning, his stance just as threatening. Taire, having been thrown back at the wall and immediately slumped to the ground, had quickly scrambled backward and away from Dylan. However he stopped before he was able to get up and make a break for it as he touched the dark curls at the back of his head in pain, only for his hand to come away wet, and he noticed the red smudged mark on the wall where his head had hit.

 

"No, I can’t leave it alone. I don't do that. This is your last warning to leave before things really get ugly." Hook said, glaring at Dylan.

 

Dylan raised his eyebrows and snorted a little. "Really? You're threatening me?" His arms  _ were _ easily double the size of Hook's, and he was a good inch or two taller, but he didn't count on Hook having any knowledge of how to fight or a weapon for a hand. He put his arms out to the sides in a sort of taunting, "come at me" gesture. Behind him and several feet away, Grantaire looked concernedly between the two, appearing to be worried for Hook.

 

Killian chuckled before stepping quickly forward and wrapping his hook around Dylan’s collar, shoving him into the wall. He pulled out his dagger and held it against Dylan's neck. "I am threatening you, mate."

 

Grantaire's hand, the one not covered in blood from his head, flew up to cover his mouth in shock as he watched. Dylan had been caught off guard, although he didn't seem deterred. "Jesus fuck, man, you're insane! Seriously, why do you even care! He doesn't even matter, nobody here cares what happens to him!" Dylan obviously didn't seem to grasp the idea of placating the guy holding a knife to his throat.

 

"Obviously someone does care, you just can’t seem to see that. Look, you can leave now, or not be able to leave at all." He growled, still glaring at Dylan.

 

"The fuck does that mean?" Dylan scoffed. "What, you're going to cut me up? Yeah, right. Your costume thing must give you some great confidence, but you won't do shit." He spat, very sure of his assumption.

 

"Why does everyone keep saying it’s a costume?" Killian asked rhetorically and stabbed the knife into Dylan's stomach.

 

A couple of things happened at once. Grantaire's jaw dropped and he put both hands over his mouth, a strangled squeak escaping him as he watched everything unfold in utter horror. Dylan gasped, made a gurgling noise, and slumped over, still with a shocked look on his face. He was still alive, for the moment, but already the stab wound had taken him out of commission.

 

Hook pulled the knife out of Dylan's body, wiping the blood off. "Had enough yet, mate?" He asked in an inappropriately cheerful voice, stepping away from Dylan.

 

Dylan fell to the ground, still gasping. "Th' fuck's wrongwithyou?!" He coughed and looked over to Grantaire. "Wha'th'fuck're you waitin' for you useless-" he had to pause there, hands covering the bleeding stab wound. "C-Call the fuckin' police!" He yelled at him. R just stared at him, frozen in horror, and flinched back a little when he yelled.

 

"Guess not." Hook shrugged and stabbed him again completely unconcernedly.

  
  


Oogie was at this point very happy with the decision he’d made to follow Hook out here; this was way better than gambling! And it was definitely the most entertaining show he’d seen since arriving in this world.

  
  


Grantaire gave another small squeak-like noise, eyes wide as saucers and hands clamped over his mouth to keep from screaming; he didn't want to cause any further problems by drawing more attention to them. He drew his legs in a little closer to himself, unable to look away from Dylan as the man made another gurgling noise, barely alive now.

 

Killian proceeded to stab Dylan about 26 more times until he knew he was dead. He then stood up straight, cleaned off his knife, and reached out his (only) hand to help Grantaire up.

 

Oogie took that opportunity to return to the restaurant to make sure he wouldn't be suspected of the crime; this very, oh so interesting and fun crime.

 

R sat there on the ground for a moment, unmoving and simply staring at the hand Hook was offering, shaking slightly as he was in mild shock. He seemed to think about it for a minute, then finally tentatively accepted the help and pulled himself shakily up with Hook's hand. Once he was up he swayed unsteadily, lightheaded because of his still-bleeding head.

 

"It's okay now, mate." He said reassuringly, holding R steady.

 

"N- I'm...fine. I'm fine." He insisted, shying away from Hook, but his expression and the fact that he didn't outright remove Hook’s hand from steadying him gave away how relieved and grateful he was to at least have someone else there. "T-Thanks...for, uh, intervening. But...did you have to...?" He glanced back down at Dylan and quickly looked away again, holding back a gag. The sudden movement made the pain in his head flare up again, and he hissed softly. R put his hand up to the back of his head, feeling the blood in his hair and his hand coming back covered in red. "That's- ugh, a l-lot of blood, shit..." He glanced between his hand and Dylan. "We need to call 911."

 

"What's 911?" Hook asked, still not used to modern technology or this realm.

 

R just stared at him for a moment. "Christ, where are you even _ from?" _ He got out his phone and tapped the emergency call button. He gave Hook another strange look as he spoke to the dispatcher, giving the address of the restaurant and skillfully leaving out the details as he explained the "attack, with two people injured and one not responding". He had to sit down on the ground, still lightheaded and unsteady on his feet.

 

"I'm from the enchanted forest...it’s a different realm that I now, unfortunately, have no way to get back to." Hook informed him, sounding almost regretful.

 

R looked up at him incredulously but convinced himself that he'd heard Hook wrong because of the concussion he strongly suspected he had. As he sat and spoke to the 911 dispatcher, another employee came out the back entrance with a bag of garbage in her hand and screamed once she saw the scene, drawing startled stared from both Hook and R.

 

Connor snapped out of his momentary crisis when he heard the scream, jumping up and rushing to the back with Hank right on his heels, ready to check out the scene. Connor pulled the employee back inside, herding her back with the crowd that had begun to gather around the door. He stepped outside to see R on the ground and Hook standing over a dead body, a knife in his hand.

 

Grantaire started as Connor and Hank burst out the door after the employee, almost dropping his phone. "Ambulance and police are already on the way," He informed Hook, Connor, and Hank a second after the 911 dispatcher told him.

 

_ Analyzing… _

**O  Help R**

**_△  Restrain Hook_ **

**X Check Victim**

 

Connor immediately lunged at Hook to restrain him before he could do any more harm, possibly hurt R, while Hank stopped to help R and calm him down.

 

R tried to get up, immediately regretting it as everything started spinning and his vision became out of focus, all likely thanks to his head injury. 

"D-don't- he didn't do anything..." He told Hank, since he was the closest, then leaned around him to repeat the words to Connor urgently. "He didn't do anything." He ignored Hank's attempts to calm him down, trying to fight the effects of his head injury and make sure that Hook wasn't arrested.

 

Hook tried to push Connor off of him. "Get off, mate!" He said angrily, struggling and frustrated that both cops seemed to be blatantly ignoring Grantaire’s insistence that he was innocent.

 

However, Connor still held Hook's wrists behind his back, waiting for Hank to come over and cuff him. Hank was still trying to calm R down, telling him things like, "Okay, it's going to be fine. I believe you, but we still have to bring both of you in for questioning, okay?" Hank gestured to Connor to let Hook go, and Connor reluctantly obeyed, still keeping a close eye on Hook.

 

Hook glared at Connor as he immediately shrugged him off, leaning his weight back away from the android.

 

"Seriously, h-he didn't...didn't do anything," Taire glanced at Hook again, wondering to himself why he was, not just defending him, but lying to the police for him. He didn't have much time to consider, though, because the ambulance and another couple police cars arrived just then.

 

A few cops in uniform got out of one of the police cars, along with a stocky man wearing a more casual outfit of a brown leather jacket over a green shirt. He had carefully styled dark brown hair and intense grey eyes, and a bit of stubble along with a scar that went diagonally across his face from right to left. His walk was cockier than even Hook as he made his way over to the group with a displeased expression on his face. The man shoved Connor aside harshly and assessed the situation. "What did the plastic prick screw up this time?" He was seemingly addressing the other officers, though he was examining the corpse.

 

R looked like he was about to be sick as he paid the cops no mind, his head still bleeding a fair amount, and he was sure he must have a concussion as his vision swam before him. One of the paramedic androids from the ambulance helped him up, supporting most of his weight as it walked him the several feet to the ambulance. Once there, it had him sit on a stretcher to examine him before determining if he needed to be taken to the hospital or if he could be treated on-site. R watched the cops and Hook still standing around the body with concern.

 

As more cops showed up, Hook hid his knife in his jacket and stood near the wall, out of the way but still watching everyone. If he was careful, he hoped he would be able to slip away unnoticed and avoid questioning.

 

Unfortunately for him, though, Hank walked over and cuffed Hook as soon as R was gone, pulling him toward one of the police cars. He shoved him in and slammed the car door. Connor came over to join Hank by the car, letting the other cops take over the crime scene and get all of the bystanders out of there, except for one.

Hook resisted against Hank as he pulled him to the car. "Get off of me, mate,” He growled. “You heard the man, I didn’t do a thing!” But he was cut off as he was shoved into the police car.

 

Oogie had still been loitering suspiciously around the area, blending in as much as he could with the crowd of shocked onlookers from the restaurant and the street, very entertained by this amazing and intriguing turn of events! He would have to continue following Hook for a little while longer, he decided. It didn’t even occur to him that his being the last observer left would get him noticed and might make someone suspicious.

 

Connor and Hank shared a quick exchange of words, before both getting in the car, Hank in the driver's seat. Connor turned around to address Hook. "We'll be taking you in for interrogation. If you are found innocent, you will be released shortly. Thank you in advance for your cooperation."

 

"Interrogation-- for what?! I just told you, so did the other guy!" Hook protested, straining against the handcuffs.

 

"You were found at the scene of a murder at the exact time of death. That makes you a witness, and we need to know what you've seen." Connor responded simply.

 

"I’ve seen a lot, mate. And I have no business speaking to you or any of your 'people'." Hook growled uncooperatively, looking away from him.

 

Connor continued to watch him for a few more moments, before turning back to face the road without a word. As Hank drove, he glanced in the rear-view mirror a few times to check on Hook.

 

Hook sat there staring out the window, pissed off and essentially pouting for the entire rest of the ride. There was absolutely no way he was going to allow himself to be incarcerated, he was quite sure of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dylan's gravestone shall read: "An asshole and dumber than a box of hair until the minute he died."
> 
> I just want to mention that some things in this, specifically related to Grantaire's life, were based on one of my favourite Les Mis fanfics I've ever read. It's called Right Seems Wrong, Wrong Seems Right and it's by mb_stortroen1832 and it is fucking BEAUTIFUL so if you're looking for a good read I strongly suggest you check it out.
> 
> Also, can we get some appreciation for the incredibly nerdy but COOL AF way that Moonlark wrote Connor's android thought process and analysis of the situation?!?!


	2. Gay Investigation

Grantaire had hoped that he would be able to leave the murder scene and go home without a problem, but he could hear one of the paramedic androids talking to a cop about taking him to the hospital for a more extensive examination, just to make sure. He sighed, frustrated, and put his face in his hands. He couldn't _ afford _ a hospital stay right now. He looked around and realized he had no idea where Hook was, and he worried that he'd been arrested as he noticed that Connor and Hank were gone, too. Great, just GREAT.

Once the ambulance arrived at the hospital, Taire was taken to a room and told to wait for the next available doctor. The nurse bandaged his head to address the bleeding and then left him alone there. Before she left, he asked her how long he should expect to wait. Unhelpfully, she said she didn't know.

Once he was alone in the room, he sighed in frustration and anxiety. He knew what the doctor would say, he knew he had a concussion, and it pissed him off that he would have to sit there and wait for god knows how long to be told something he already knew and end up paying a ridiculous amount of money for it. He hoped that whatever had happened to Hook, that he was better off than R was at the moment.

  
  


Connor arrived back at the scene, with Hank keeping an eye on Hook back at the station and R at the hospital having his head checked. He started his investigation inside the diner, which had been cleared of people for the time being. The android scanned the place, looking for possible clues.

 

**_> >>Reconstructing…_ **

 

Connor watched as the reconstructed Grantaire and Dylan made their way out back, and Hook followed.

 

**_> >>Suspect followed victim and witness outside._ **

 

He went through every available clue at the scene and was about to finish up the reconstruction when he found another set of tracks following the group outside.

 

**...** **_There was another person at the scene._ **

 

Connor scanned the back wall of the restaurant, noting that Dylan had apparently smacked Grantaire's head against it, and he reached out to take a sample. He took a small swipe of the blood on two of his fingers and brought it to his mouth to test it.

 

**_> >>Blood of Grantaire Polisson -- Type B Positive_ **

 

Connor then knelt down to the victim and examined all the stab wounds, presumably from a knife, before stepping back to study the scene.

 

**_> >>Reconstructing…_ **

 

He paid close attention as the reconstruction of Dylan threatened R and held him against the wall, and then as Hook pushed Dylan against the wall and stabbed him. He watched Dylan fall to the ground and Hook continue to stab him another 27 times as R watched in horror. There was no knife at the scene, so Connor assumed he must've still had it when they brought him to the station, and the other officers confiscated it. He turned away from the scene as Hook was stabbing Dylan, to focus on the figure hiding near the door, watching the crime calmly-- but he still couldn't figure out who that other witness could be.

  
  


Inside the restaurant as soon as Connor had left, Oogie had returned to sitting at his former table and was now enjoying his 5th cup of coffee that morning. Man, who knew coffee was so amazing?! And versatile! He was definitely bringing this home with him. It’s the perfect beverage to enjoy while toying with human lives for one’s own entertainment; wouldn’t you agree, dear reader?~

 

~~<><><>~~

 

Hook sat in the interrogation room, making a silent vow against answering any questions except with simple one-word answers. Being a pirate, he didn't feel it necessary to tell them anything; he never really told anyone about anything he did. The fact that they were authority figures didn’t faze him in the slightest, because that’s just the kinda badass that Hook was. Deal with it.

After waiting in the empty interrogation room for a while, Hook was greeted by the same cop that had taken over the scene just before he was arrested. 

 

The cop came in and sat down casually on the opposite side of the table from Hook, then looked at the contents of a folder he was holding. "Jones?" He asked, guessing Hook's name. "The name was on a couple of your things that we confiscated. I'm detective Reed, and I need you to answer a few questions."

 

"And if I don’t answer your questions?" Hook glared at him, clearly not wanting to be there or have anything to do with him.

 

"Then we're gonna have a problem." Reed sat forward to lean on the table. "If you don't answer my questions, you get a one-way ticket to prison, along with a bunch of murder charges. So if I were you, I'd start talking."

 

"Well, you haven’t asked any questions yet, mate. And I have nothing to talk about." Hook told him shortly, keeping his arms tightly crossed and his demeanor closed off.

 

"Then allow me to start," Reed threw a picture of Hook's knife down on the table. "This is the murder weapon. We found it on you at the scene, right at the time of the murder. Explain."

 

"Explain what? It’s just a bloody knife, mate...quite literally. Just because I was holding it doesn’t mean I'm the one who used it." Hook said, having had his fair share of experience in needing to talk his way out of trouble.

 

"Then who did use it? You were there at the time of the murder, so you must have seen who did it." Reed sounded skeptical.

 

"Who says I was there when he was killed, mate? Maybe I showed up after the suspect had left."

 

"Did you? And before you answer, remember that if you lie, you could get yourself into some serious shit." Reed half-sighed and half-growled. He seemed to be getting impatient.

 

"’Did I’  _ what _ ? You need to be more specific here, mate." Hook spoke with an infuriatingly calm, pleasant expression.

 

Reed slammed his hands on the table, standing up and pushing the chair back. He was practically yelling as he asked, "Did you show up to the scene when the victim was already dead!?”

 

"Perhaps I did," Hook said thoughtfully, lounging back in his chair and smirking. "Maybe I did, maybe I didn't, but isn't that  _ your _ job to figure out, mate?”

 

Detective Reed was seething as he opened his mouth to yell something else, right as the door to the interrogation room opened, interrupting him. Standing there was an android that looked exactly like Connor, only slightly taller, with blue eyes and a white jacket. Where Connor's jacket had read 'RK800', this android's jacket said 'RK900'. It popped its head into the room. "Detective Reed?" It said in Connor's voice. "Your anger levels are much too high, I suggest taking a break from the interrogation." Hesitantly, Reed stood straight up and glared daggers at Hook as he exited the room, telling Hook, "I'll be back."

 

Hook shrugged as they both left and pulled out his flask, which he had managed to conceal from the officers who confiscated his belongings upon arriving, taking a swig of the rum and putting it back in the inside pocket of his leather jacket.

 

~~<><><>~~~

 

As Connor approached the Detroit general hospital, he glanced up to the top of the building, scanning the front. He made his way through the glass front doors and walked up to the front desk, to face the receptionist android. "Hello. I'm with the Detroit Police Department, I need to question one of your patients."

The receptionist gave him a programmed smile. "What's the name of the patient you're visiting?"

"Grantaire Polisson."

The android stopped for a minute, her LED flashing yellow, then she went back to the fake happiness she had before. "He's recovering in room 606."

"Thank you," Connor said to her, then made his way toward the room.

 

Grantaire had been waiting for a while, although not quite as long as he thought he would when finally a nurse came in to check the bandage on his head. He was glad to hear that it had stopped bleeding for the most part but immediately took that relief back when told he would need stitches. He grumbled to himself that Dylan was lucky that he was already dead, considering otherwise R would've killed him himself.

Luckily for him, the procedure didn't take too long and before he knew it he was told he would be able to leave sooner rather than later. While he was under watch just to be sure and the release papers were being collected, his phone rang. He smiled at the caller ID; his best friend, Jehan.

"Hey, Jehan. What's up?"

"Chéri! You answered pretty fast, is everything okay?" He sounded a little anxious. Taire assured him, as truthfully as he could, that he was fine. "Well, alright then. I found out some news today and we really need to talk about it." Grantaire was concerned by the urgency of his friend's tone, but as he was about to ask for clarification he looked up and saw the familiar police android at the reception desk, likely asking for him.

"Of course. But, ah, now is kind of a bad time. Can I call you back later? I promise we'll talk then." Jehan agreed reluctantly, and he bid him goodbye and ended the call as the android entered his room.

R watched the android cautiously, unsure of how he was being viewed in the context of the case: witness or suspect? "Hi...do you need something from me?" He asked, pushing down his nerves. He sat up a little and folded his hands in his lap, moving aside the sketchbook he'd been drawing in to pass the time.

 

Connor sat down in a chair next to the bed, leaning forward to face R. "Unfortunately, yes. I'm sorry to bother you during your recovery, but I need to ask you a few questions about the recent murder. Is that alright?"

 

Taire nodded quietly, his worry increasing. This certainly sounded like an interrogation to him, albeit a polite one. He fidgeted with his hands in his lap, looking to Connor in an attempt at calm.

 

"Alright. First, were you there at the time of the murder, and did you see it happen?"

 

"I, uh, yeah. Dylan- the guy who died, had started attacking me and had shoved me into the wall," He gestured to his head pointedly. "A-And he, uh, heard something from behind him, so he threw me back and I hit my head again and fell, s-so I couldn't really see anything until I, uh, looked up and saw Dylan being s-stabbed..." Grantaire hoped that the story he was making up as it came out of his mouth was believable enough. He again wondered exactly WHY he was lying to the police to protect this...  _ Killian _ guy who kept showing up in his life for some reason.

"Whoever it was turned to me and looked like they were going to do the same to me...b-but then Killian came around the corner and...and scared them off, I guess."

 

Connor nodded as Grantaire spoke. "And did you see who the murderer was?"

 

R shook his head, then paused as he thought about something. "Wait- I thought I saw that creepy gambling gay disappear just around the corner when Killian was helping me up, right, uh, right after he scared the killer away. The guy from the other night who was egging on the fight you broke up between me and Killian, he was at the restaurant while I was working, and he said something about wishing he had some entertainment?" He shivered a little at the implication that thought gave.

 

Connor thought about that for a moment. It did make sense... "So the other man, the one that helped you, his name is Killian Jones? He's not a registered citizen, but I assume he introduced himself to you. What interactions have you had, besides the bar fight and the murder scene?"

 

Grantaire nodded. "He was at the restaurant, too, and we talked a little before Dylan showed up. We only just met that night at the bar...and other than today, we haven't had any other interactions, really." Admitting this made him question further what he was thinking by committing a felony for a guy he'd spoken to twice, once being a bar fight, and ended up in one awkward accidental lip-lock with. Now that he thought about it, that had been the fault of the creepy gambling guy...actually, it all had! His expression subtly darkened with sudden anger at this realization.

 

Connor nodded again as he followed along with the story, and reconstructed it in his head. "Can you tell me the events that led up to the murder? Everything from the first time you encountered the victim that day."

 

"Uh, yeah...I was talking to Killian, supposed to be taking his order but he was being difficult so we were sort of arguing-- not really seriously, though. And Dylan came in loudly, looking for me, so I went over to tell him to leave. He's been obsessed and following me for a while now, since just before graduation, so I was used to turning him away by then. But he refused to leave without getting to talk to me first. I thought if I gave him what he wanted he might leave me alone in the future. So we went out back to talk, and I know Killian watched us leave." He paused. "Actually, I'm glad he did. If it hadn't been for him, I don't know what would've happened to me." He admitted, suddenly less confused as to why he was protecting him.

 

"I see. So he followed you and Dylan behind the diner, and what did he do when we got there?”

 

R shrugged. "I don't know, I only saw him when he came around the corner and scared off whoever killed Dylan. He might've just gotten there or been there long enough to see how it happened. He helped me up, a-and I saw him pick up the knife, I don't know why." He moved to sit on his hands so that Connor wouldn't be able to see them shaking. He was literally making this story up with as many truthful facts as he could as it was coming out of his mouth, and lying to a robot was even more stressful and nerve-wracking; he didn't know if Connor had some kind of program to tell if he was lying or not.

 

Connor scanned Grantaire's face and tried to tell if he was lying. He couldn't be sure, because Grantaire seemed to be pretty nervous in general, having just seen someone get stabbed to death. He took a moment to respond as he was doing this. "Alright, that's all." He stood up and straightened his jacket and tie. "I'll contact you if I have any other questions. We may need to keep you under surveillance, just in case the killer tries to go after you as well. Since we don't yet know the motives of the killer, we can't be sure."

 

Grantaire frowned. "What? Do you mean like just a cop outside my apartment, or...?" He sat up a little. "It's not gonna be some big deal, right?"

 

"We will most likely have an android accompany you in your apartment until the threat has passed. Is that alright with you?"

 

"Yeah, I guess..." He figured that "the threat" couldn't be present for THAT long, right? The android probably wouldn't even bother him, and likely would just hang out in the living room and keep watch. He could deal with that, he decided. "Well, what about Killian? What's gonna happen to him now?”

 

“I would also like to keep him under surveillance, under the assumption that he is innocent--unless new evidence presents itself. The easiest option would be to have him stay with you for the time being, seeing as he doesn't seem to own a house or apartment of his own. That way, the android that we send can keep an eye on both of you at once. Though I will have to get your confirmation that it is alright, first." Connor waited expectantly for Grantaire to allow or deny the request to let Hook stay with him.

 

"I-- Yeah, I guess..." The guy was kinda weird and R didn't exactly trust him, at least not fully, but he figured he'd be safe enough having a stranger in his house as long as an android was there to keep an eye on things. "Does he know this yet?”

 

"No, not yet. Once I get back to the station I will listen to his story of what happened, and if he is cleared I will have one of our androids escort him to your home.”

 

"Alright..." R convinced himself not to panic; his story was general enough that Killian should be able to come up with something coincidentally similar, right? "Should I write down the address or something?”

 

"That's alright, I already have your address in the system. Thank you for your time." With that, Connor left the room, heading back to the station where Hook had just been questioned by Detective Reed.

 

~~<><><>~~

 

When Connor stepped into the interrogation room, Hook was still sitting there looking bored and quietly sipping his rum. He was expressionless as he sat down where Reed had previously been sitting, across the table from Hook. 

"Killian Jones, right? My name is Connor. I just have a few more questions to ask you, to confirm the story of the other witness, Grantaire Polisson. If you are cleared, we will let you go and place you under temporary surveillance, until the case is solved.”

 

"Why would I need to be placed under temporary surveillance? I’m not a bloody child, mate, I don’t need your ‘body guards,’" Hook said, glaring at Connor.

 

"It's for your own protection. Often times a murderer will target all witnesses so they cannot be caught. If you are indeed not the killer, you could be at risk. If you are cleared, we will have an android officer escort you to the home of Mr. Polisson, where you will both be kept an eye on.”

 

"I can protect myself...and I have things to do, I can't just be followed around by some police officer all the time.” Hook insisted.

 

Connor ignored that statement and got right to questioning. "Can you describe to me the scenario--from the time you saw the victim and the witness leave the diner through the back, up until my partner and I showed up?”

 

"I was sitting inside the diner talking to Grantaire, and then this guy came in, rather loudly, wanting to talk to him...so they went to the back of the building." Hook told Connor, keeping things short and without much detail.

 

"And you followed them?" Connor prompted.

 

"Well, the guy seemed aggressive, and Grantaire gave me this concerned look as they left...so I walked out to the side of the building to listen in on the conversation without being noticed. Everything from that point on is a bit of a blur, mate." Hook said, lying about the last part. Obviously, being a pirate had its perks in being able to lie past a robotic machine.

 

"Do your best to recount what happened." Connor could tell that he was hiding something, even if he didn't seem like he was lying.

 

Hook looked confused and deep in thought, appearing like he was 'trying to piece together what had happened'.

 

"...I sense you're having some trouble remembering. Mr. Polisson said that when you came out behind them, he had been knocked to the ground and you helped him. Is that true?" Connor sat forward a bit.

 

"Uh, yes...he had been thrown into the wall a couple of times, I could see the blood stain." Hook confirmed.

 

"And what was the status of the victim, Dylan Connerie, at this point?"

 

“He was, uh..." Hook didn’t know how to answer. Not wanting to be found guilty, he was trying to come up with a story on the fly and silently praying it would match whatever Grantaire had told the android.

 

"He was...?" Connor prompted.

 

"Uh...ya know..." Hook did his best to sound shaken and a bit traumatized, managing the effect fairly successfully.

 

"I apologize for dredging up unpleasant memories, Mr. Jones, but I'm going to need you to say the word, for clarification purposes." The android informed him patiently.

 

"He uh...he was dead..." Hook said, trying quite successfully to sound convincing.

 

Connor nodded-- this confirmed Grantaire's story. "And then Lieutenant Anderson and I showed up when you were helping Mr. Polisson?"

 

"Aye...you guys showed up right after I helped him up, I think. While he was making a call."

 

"And when did you pick up the knife, and why?" Connor asked him, now a bit confused.

 

"I didn’t want the murderer to stab Grantaire...so I took the knife from him...” Hook cringed internally at the risk he was saying.

 

Connor raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Then you saw the killer?"

 

Well  _ shit _ , Hook thought. "I didn't see his face...he ran away too quickly."

 

"But you came in contact with him." He encouraged.

 

"Just to push him away from Grantaire." Hook tried to keep his answers short and un-incriminating after that slip-up.

 

Connor scanned Hook's face.

 

**▲ 55% Level of Stress ------- Optimal**

 

"Can you describe what he was wearing?” The android questioned.

 

"He was in all black," was all Hook gave. In response to Connor’s patiently raised eyebrow, he added reluctantly, “And...tall…”

 

Connor paused a minute to store all of this information, before continuing with the interrogation. "Mr. Polisson said you entered the scene as the suspect was running away, and then picked up the knife off the ground," Connor informed Hook, implying his question.

 

"Oh...uh, it all just happened so fast, I didn’t want the bloke to hurt anyone else..." Could this possibly go any worse? The pirate thought. He’d already fucked up one detail, and it seemed that there was no way for him to know how much more interrogation there was left to be done. “Grantaire had hit his head, anyway, and I don’t think he was really all there when I arrived.” He quickly amended.

 

"I see." Connor's LED flicked yellow for a moment as he took note of the explanation and conflicting stories. "Mr. Jones, are you aware that you are not a registered citizen of the United States?"

 

"Yes, I am aware that I don’t bloody live here, mate.” He snarked, suddenly annoyed at Connor’s prying. “I just can’t go back to my home."

 

"Where do you live, then? As far as the DPD is concerned, you are not a registered citizen in  _ any _ country."

 

"I’m not from this realm, I can’t go back to mine because I lost my ship gambling.” Hook blurted without thinking.

 

Connor's LED flashed yellow again, this time in confusion. "What do you mean by ‘realm’?”

 

Hook paled. "Ah, just, nevermind, like you said earlier... I’m going to be moving in with Grantaire anyway." He tried to backtrack subtly, hoping that Connor wouldn’t press his misstep.

 

"Yes…” Connor narrowed his eyes. “That will be all. Thank you, Mr. Jones, I have all I need." He stood up and straightened his tie. "You should be released within a few hours-- I will have a chosen android escort you to Mr. Polisson's residence, where you will stay until the case is solved. Keep in mind that you must do anything that the android says is for your own protection." There was a sudden audible thump from behind the two-way mirror, which made Connor frown. "If you'll excuse me, I am going to deal with that."

 

"Okay...thanks, I guess." Hook wasn’t sure what to say, just relieved that he hadn’t been found out.

  
  


As all of this went on with the other three, Oogie was still in the empty restaurant after having made sure that none of the cops surrounding the place would disturb him with a snap of his fingers. He’d lost count of how many cups of coffee he'd had as he sat there contemplating the entire situation he’d created. The four of them had ended up stuck in each other’s lives at least for the moment, all thanks to his own creativity. He mused that eventually, someone would have to take the fall for the murder, and he couldn’t very well let it be Hook if his new ship was going to survive. 

“Don’t you just hate it when that happens, reader? When a murder complicates the officiation of your new OTP? Yeah, me too. Hahah, just kidding, I can’t hear you!”

But he would figure out that little detail later. He was sure it would all work out, somehow. And if not, well, that’s the beauty of being omnipotent!

 

~~<><><>~~

 

A few hours later, as promised, the interrogation room door opened once more and Detective Reed walked without bothering to sit down. "Alright, come with me.”

 

Hook stood up and stretched casually as the detective entered. "Well, I'm flattered, but at least buy me a drink first, mate." He said, smirking, purposefully getting on the detective’s nerves.

 

Reed glared at the pirate. "Just follow me. I'm gonna take you to the front, so "Detective" Nines can escort you to the other witness’s place." Anyone could easily tell that Reed was trying to be as civil as possible when interacting with Hook, but he was still grumpy from earlier; especially based on the twitching muscle in his clenched jaw.

 

Hook smiled. "Aye, well I'm still up for that drink if you are." He quirked his eyebrow, walking with Reed up to the front. 

 

Reed just rolled his eyes and didn't respond, knowing it would only piss him off more. When they got to the front, the RK900 android from before was outside waiting for them by an automated police car. As soon as it spotted Hook, it walked over to him. "Hello Mr. Jones, my name is Nines. I will be your police escort and bodyguard."

Reed seemed annoyed at that. "You could've let someone else go."

"I am most suited for the job," it responded calmly.

"But what if one of them is actually the murderer, and they kill you!?"

"Gavin, I'm not alive, I can't be killed. And I'll just come back, anyway."

"How about you don't die in the first place."

They continued bickering, going in circles for a few more minutes before Reed huffed in frustration and stopped arguing to pout.

 

"Alright well, thank you, both of you." Hook bowed sarcastically to Reed, then turned to face the android. "Shall we?" He smirked. 

 

Reed gave Hook an absolute death glare as Hook and Nines got into the automated cruiser. Once Nines had input the location into the GPS system and the car had started on its way, it turned to Hook. "I must apologize about my little argument with Gavin at the station. It was not very professional of me, I will try to do better.”

 

"Oh, it's quite alright, mate. There's nothing wrong with a little friendly argument," Hook said, once again pulling out his flask. “Quite entertaining, actually.”

 

Nines looked confused, but it dropped the subject of the argument. "You shouldn't drink so much rum.”

 

"Why not?" With that question, Hook shot a defensive glare at it.

 

"While rum has some medicinal properties when taken in small amounts, it is still alcohol and can be harmful to your health if you overdose. Drinking too much over a long period of time can result in various medical problems, mostly concerning the heart, including cardiomyopathy, high blood pressure, stroke, and arrhythmias.”

 

"Alright, well, I’ve been drinking rum for almost a century and I am perfectly fine, so back off.”

 

Nines scanned Hook to verify its thoughts before it voiced them. "But, my systems tell me you aren't physically any old than 37.”

 

"Right...it’s a joke, mate...people do that around here, right?" Hook said, remembering some of the things he’d been taught by Henry. 

 

"Yes...of course.”

 

"Alright...well...if you don't question my drinking we won't have any problems.”

 

"Got it." Nines turned to face forward again, and they sat in silence for the rest of the ride.

 

Hook sat there quietly, drinking his rum until they got to Grantaire's house. 

  
  


The building they were taken to could be easily described, in the simplest terms, as shitty. It was run-down and dirty and not in the best area of town. Unfortunately, it was all Grantaire could afford while trying to save up enough money to move back home. Grantaire's apartment was on the 6th floor, and quite unluckily happened to be apartment number 1408 (the digits add up to 13)-- when Taire had moved in, he'd joked with Bossuet that he'd somehow picked up a bit of the other's unending terrible luck.

Grantaire had only just arrived back home, and he flopped on the small, shabby sofa with an exhausted and annoyed sigh, when there came a knock on his door. He groaned.

"Just can't catch a break," The man muttered as he dragged himself up off the couch to answer the door.

 

Hook was standing there when Grantaire answered the door, with Nines towering just behind him. Nines looked down at Grantaire with its icy gray-blue eyes. "Hello, Mr. Polisson. My name is Nines, I'm the android sent by the Detroit police department. I will be staying with you and Mr. Jones, to keep an eye on you until we have concluded our investigation on the murder of Dylan Connerie."

 

Hook waved, smirking, "So we meet again, mate."

 

Grantaire tightened his lips in an expression close to a grimace but otherwise didn't respond to Hook. He looked up at Nines.

"So, just to be clear, you're NOT the same android I talked to at the hospital?" He paused, looking at the RK900 printed on its uniform. "You're just a different model that...looks identical?”

 

"Yes. The android you spoke to before was Connor, an RK800. I am an RK900." Somehow, Nines’ tone came off as proud.

 

"Alright..." Grantaire responded, as if that meant something to him. "Well, uh, come on in, I guess." He stepped aside to allow Hook and Nines to enter. "And you're just gonna be staying until the killer is caught?" He clarified with the android.

 

"Yes. When we have closed the case and caught the killer, my work will be done and I will leave."

 

Grantaire tried not to let that implication stress him out. He led the way into the living room area, which was occupied by an old couch and a beat-up armchair. There were two bookshelves along the back wall, on either side of the "back door", and the shelves in the bottom half of the left-hand bookshelf had been removed. An old stereo now occupied that space in the bookcase. Sitting open on the couch was an ancient-looking laptop.

"So uh, make yourselves at home."

 

"I live on a ship, mate, you don’t want me to make myself at home." Hook said, walking into the room.

 

Grantaire gave him the strangest look. "And that's supposed to mean...?"

 

"Nevermind..." He waved the question off as he looked around.

 

Taire raised an eyebrow but didn't question it further. The ancient laptop on his couch started playing a ringtone, and he moved over to sit down with the computer on his lap as he answered the video call. "Hey," He greeted the other person.

It was a young man, fair enough to have easily been mistaken for a woman, with long ginger waves and a pink flower crown atop his head. His clothing was HIDEOUS; an orange floral-patterned short-sleeved button-up under lime-green coveralls and a purple flower crown on his head.

"Hey!" He greeted Grantaire brightly, waving and exposing a tattoo of a rose along the full length of his right forearm. He pulled his hair around the side of his face. "Can we talk now? I have important news!"

 

Hook looked over at the laptop, confused, "How the bloody hell- is that guy trapped in there?" He asked urgently, concernedly.

 

R had been about to answer the man on the call when Hook had spoken up. He stared at him, literally open-mouthed, incredulously. "UM...excuse me?? Do you not- how don't you know what a laptop is!?" The man on the other end of the call looked just as confused and incredulous. "It's like you're from an entirely different time or something!" R scoffed, honestly mind-fucked.

 

Hook deadpanned, "More like a different realm, mate."

 

R pursed his lips, unimpressed and actually looking a little annoyed. "Right. Of course." He responded flatly, being the stubborn skeptic that he was. Hook must've thought him stupid to keep up this "other realm" crap. He shook his head and looked back to the laptop screen. "I'll explain this stuff later if you're serious about not knowing what it is." He told Hook without looking at him.

"Anyway, what's the news? Don't mind him, he's just here because of- y'know what, it's a long and complicated story for some other time." The man on the screen looked confused, at that.

"Alright...well, it's pretty important news, I don't know if you'd feel comfortable with me saying it aloud with other people in the room," He warned.

"Jehan, it's fine. Just pretend they're not there, I'm sure whatever it is won't be that big a deal since you agreed to wait to tell me until I got home. Spill it!" He smiled.

 

Nines paid pretty much no attention to their conversation. Instead, it wandered around the apartment, examining everything. It walked up to each electronic in the house, in turn, looked at it for a moment, and then connected to its system and accidentally turned it on. With them all turned on, the sudden resounding static noise seemed to startle the android, and it hurriedly turned them off again. Nines walked over to Grantaire.

"Sorry to interrupt-- but is it okay if I turn on some music?" It gestured to the stereo on the bookshelf.

 

R looked up. "Yeah, sure, just put on whatever." He looked back to Jehan. "Sorry, continue." Jehan looked nervous.

"Well, it's about Enjolras, actually." He paused to let Taire respond. The dark-haired man sat up a little, eyebrows raising. He tried not to make it too obvious that this news was suddenly much more important to him. "...Oh? Uh, what about him?"

 

Nines turned to face the stereo and tapped its LED with two fingers, making it flicker yellow as it processed the request and turned on "Shake it Off" by Taylor Swift.

 

R looked up from the laptop with a scowl. "The hell? When I said to put on whatever, I meant something from a playlist, not this out-of-date girl-pop."

"Hey! I happen to like Taylor Swift," Jehan chuckled a little. R rolled his eyes and mumbled, "of course you do,"

 

"As do I," Nines chimed.

 

Jehan smiled. "Whoever that is, they have good taste." Grantaire blanched. 

"That was the police android that's staying at my place to keep an eye on him," He pointed behind him at Hook. Jehan looked surprised and slightly unsettled.

"...Oh."

 

In response to the sudden music, Killian wandered the small space of the apartment. "Grantaire?? Who is the woman you have here and where is she hiding??" He asked of the source of the music.

 

R, misunderstanding what Hook meant, rolled his eyes and shouted back, "It's the android's crappy taste, not my fault," as Jehan looked suspiciously over Taire's shoulder in the direction that Hook's voice had originated. "Sorry," he apologized to Jehan, "so, what's up with Apollo?" He used the affectionate nickname for Enjolras without even realizing it.

"Well, see," Jehan hesitated, "he and Feuilly are now...ah, together." The words seemed to be spoken guiltily, especially considering R's reaction. He became very quiet and his previously cheerful expression shattered, visibly; he now looked almost in shock. There was silence for a moment. 

"...Oh." Another beat of silence passed.

"You alright...?" Jehan asked him worriedly.

"Yes...yes. I'm- I'm great, I'm happy for them." R forced a smile.

 

Killian, meanwhile, wandered around the apartment playing with different gadgets and inspecting the place before going into the kitchen area. "Hey, got any rum, mate?"

 

R scowled and looked behind him at Hook in the kitchen area. "Does it look like I can afford expensive shit like rum, just looking around here?" He snapped, noticeably more irritable now after having heard the "news". Returning to his computer, Jehan still looked worried and seemed to have noticed the worsened state of Grantaire's mood. Taire misunderstood the reason for his friend's expression- or maybe he understood it fine and just did not want to talk any more about Enjolras. "I'm not the biggest fan of my new temporary roommate. He's just annoying and frustrating." The ginger pursed his lips and nodded a little, unsure of how to really respond to that but taking note of it anyway.

Only a moment after, a door was heard opening on Jehan's end and someone else entered his flat. They called out, "I'm home, songbird!" The newcomer came into the frame of the video call as he moved around behind Jehan's chair and leaned down to wrap his arms around the other's shoulders, hugging him and kissing his cheek. Something dark red dripped audibly and visibly off of the man's dark coat. Grantaire's eyebrows shot up as Jehan smiled and greeted the man, before he noticed the dripping red, too. 

"’Parnasse, what- wait, is that-?! Ugh, go clean up!" He pushed the man off of him, laughing, "You're gonna stain my floor!" For some reason, he seemed completely unbothered by the blood all over his boyfriend's coat. Grantaire just stared, a bit uncomfortable. "Sorry about that." Jehan brushed the scene off lightly as if it were nothing.

 

Killian stayed in the kitchen, continuing to inspect the apartment before making his way over to Nines. "So, do I have to stay here, or can I go out to a bar or what?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

 

"Unfortunately I can leave neither of you alone. If you would like to go to a bar, both of you will have to go." The android responded.

 

Hook looked at Grantaire pleadingly. "Please, mate...if we have to suffer together, we might as well do it somewhere other than this insufferable place."

 

Grantaire, already in a bad mood, glared at Hook with something like disbelief at the fact that he could _ see _ how irritated he was and yet still would blatantly insult his living space. He shook his head. "Fine." He turned back to Jehan, whose eyes were narrowed as he looked between Grantaire and Hook behind him suspiciously. "I'll text you later." Jehan just nodded a little. 

"Alright, have fun with...that, I guess. Night!" R returned the sentiment and then ended the video call, closing his computer and tossing it aside on the couch. 

"Let me go change real quick first." He grumbled and moved past Hook's shoulder to his room, closing the door behind him.

 

Hook smirked, watching him leave triumphantly.

  
  


When Grantaire returned, he'd changed into a pair of dark, well-fitting jeans and his thin CCS sweatshirt. His hair looked like he'd attempted to brush it, but the dark curls were still fairly wild. He passed by Hook's shoulder again and grabbed his coat, pulling it on. "Where did you have in mind?"

 

"I don’t know, mate, I’m not from around here... I guess you'll just have to...show me around." He winked at Grantaire, smirking.

 

R gave him a look but tried to ignore the wink and smirk. "Well, my usual go-to place is probably not the best destination, after the other night." He looked to Nines. "You're the android, isn't that one of the things you do? Recommend good places to eat and drink?" He asked, basically treating it like Siri or something.

 

Killian looked confused, not understanding the whole internet thing. "What do you mean? He probably doesn’t know either."

 

"It's one of those things, part of its programming. It's supposed to be able to, like, Google some good places nearby just by asking it." He explained to Hook. "Right?" Back to Nines.

 

"’Google’? Who the bloody hell is Google?" Hook asked, looking confused.

 

Grantaire stared at him for a minute. "Okay, seriously, what is your deal? Are you from some third-world country with no technology or something? How is it possible that you don't know these things? It's freaking 2038!" He was genuinely incredulous.

 

"I am from the Enchanted Forest, mate! I live on a ship, I have no bloody idea what you mean by it being 2038, and what the hell do you mean by 'technology'?!" He was becoming highly, frustratedly confused, now.

 

R gaped at him, completely lost as to what he was talking about with this "Enchanted Forest" nonsense. "It's 2038; y'know,  _ the year _ ?" He shook his head. "If I'm seriously going to have to explain modern technology to you, this is going to be a long conversation." He sighed. "We can discuss that in the car and at the bar, once we find somewhere to go." He looked back to Nines expectantly. 

 

"There's a bar you might be interested in on 35 E Grand River Avenue called Queens Bar Detroit. It has 4.4 stars and reviews say it has "strong drinks, tasteful decor, and excellent service"." Nines answered after a pause, unknowingly playing right into the Siri characterization.

 

R gave Hook a pointed look and gestured to Nines. "See? That sounds fine, let's go there." He answered the android. Then they headed out the door and down to the front of the building, where Taire grabbed them a cab.


	3. Gay Outing

The three of them—Grantaire, Hook, and Nines—made their way down to catch one of the cabs out front of Grantaire’s apartment building. They picked one of the boxy vehicles and prepared to get inside, when Hook stopped them, looked immensely confused. "What the hell is that?" He asked.

 

R stared blankly at him for a moment. "An automated cab. There is literally no way you could NOT have seen one of these before, having been in Detroit for more than a day. Hell, more than an _hour_ and you would’ve seen one."

 

Hook stared at the vehicle. "There’s no way you can expect me to get inside this bloody land vessel, mate."

 

"You got in a car earlier," Nines pointed out.

 

"What– that is not a car. I’ve been in and seen cars before, and that certainly is not one." The pirate insisted. “I’m not getting in that thing; it looks dangerous.”

 

Grantaire couldn't help but scoff at Hook's "it looks dangerous" comment. While Nines got in, he turned to Hook and kept his voice low so as to avoid the android hearing him, and he leaned in closer to be heard. "You, the chivalrous pirate murderer, afraid of a car? 'It looks dangerous', so what if it's dangerous? Danger doesn't seem to scare you in the slightest, from what I’ve seen." His teasing tone came off as something a little different when paired with the lowered volume of his words. He threw Hook a smirk as he got into the car with the android.

 

Hook raised an eyebrow and got into the car after him, quickly reversing his previous vigilance. "Danger doesn’t scare me, nothing scares me." He assured him, returning the low tone and smirking back at him.

 

R pursed his lips and gave a short huff of a laugh. "Sure, of course. Think you might have to prove that to me." He returned, teasing.

 

"Haven’t I sort of done that already, mate?” Hook quirked an eyebrow and countered, almost flirtatiously.

 

The only way Grantaire could’ve verbally described the look that Hook gave him was...alluring. He wouldn’t admit more than that, not even in his thoughts. “Maybe once.” He smirked. “But showing a sign of fear at a _car?_ ” He pointed out with an eyebrow quirk of his own.

 

"I guess I’ll just have to restore your faith in that." His eyes lingered for a moment more than necessary, locked with the blue across from them. He finally faced forward in the car without another word.

 

~~<><><>~~

 

Connor approached Queens Bar with determination, straightening his tie and jacket before he went in. This was the 5th place he'd checked, and he feared his patience would not last much longer; he'd been following Oogie's trail for most of the day. The people around the city had told Connor where they’d seen Oogie going, and this was supposedly the most recent place he had been spotted. Hoping this was finally the place, Connor pushed the glass door of the bar open, entering as discreetly as possible so he wouldn't draw too much attention to himself.

 

Oogie sat alone in the bar, chilling and people-watching for gambling “victims” as usual, but instead of drinking alcohol he was enjoying a huge mug with an unhealthy amount of coffee in it. The lighting was low in the part of the bar he was sitting at, thus making him look more ominous and dangerous from afar.

 

Connor scanned the faces of everyone in the bar as he passed them, finally settling on the familiar face of the so-called "creepy gambling guy" from before. He quickly made his way over to Oogie to introduce himself. "Hello, my name is Connor. I'm the android sent by CyberLife. If you don't mind, I'd like to ask you a few questions about the murder of Dylan Connerie."

 

"Oh, oh, oh, alright, ask away, Cy-buddy." Oogie was quite aware of how strange he was being.

 

Connor ignored the nickname. "May I ask your name? You don't seem to be in my database."

 

"Ah yes, my name," Oogie smirked while taking a huge gulp of coffee without a care in the world. He thought for a minute and finally decided to give him his real name. "I'm Mr. Oogie Boogie-Man, of course.” At the flicker of red confusion in Connor’s LED, Oogie laughed. “Never heard of me, Cy-buddy? Hah!" He once again took an inhumanly big gulp of coffee, the hot drink burning the inside of his mouth; not that he cared, BECAUSE IT WAS SOO FUCKING GOOD, MAN, pardon my language!

 

"Actually, I have heard of you. I have a witness that places you at the scene of the murder as it happened." Connor gestured to an empty seat at Oogie's table, across from him. "May I?"

 

"I guess you may, you are my Cy-buddy after all, hah-ha!"

 

"Thank you." He sat down across from Oogie. "Can you tell me what you remember of this morning, specifically the murder and everything leading up to it?"

 

Oogie put on his best act, which could be very convincing if he really needed it to be. "I was just enjoying my morning at this great coffee shop, which by the way, has GREAT coffee, you should try it sometime," Oogie said, partially reminding himself that he still had a huge cup to consume. "Then all of sudden I heard an employee scream!” Oogie convincingly faked a look of slight shock. "There was a panic, but then the police arrived. Such a tragic situation, really." Oogie looked and sounded upset, though it was really only that the coffee shop was closed now. He didn’t mention that, though, considering he’d stolen quite a lot of coffee from the place while all of the action had been outside.

 

"Both of my witnesses have reported that they saw another man at the scene, and one of them even said he saw your face." The question was implied in the statement.

 

"Me? I wasn't near the area of the murder, I was simply enjoying the menu of the coffee shop." Oogie informed Connor seriously, once again picking up his drink and taking a sip.

 

Connor scanned his face, looking for telltale signs that he was lying and frowning when he found none. Of course, it was possible that he was just a very good liar. "Mr. Oogie, from what I can tell, your story is the only one that doesn't match up. No one that was dining at the time seems to have seen you during the time of the murder, and I also questioned some staff members, who said they saw you slip out the back staff door just after the victim and both of the witnesses, so you were there with them when it happened."

 

“Is that so? That’s very interesting indeed.” Oogie, already bored of this conversation, had decided to...spice things up a bit. He gave Connor an evil smirk and leaned forward over the table as he spoke. Then quickly he surged forward to kiss Connor on the mouth, expecting a hilarious reaction.

 

Connor didn't react besides furrowing his brow in confusion, before leaning away with a completely neutral, if not slightly confused expression on his face. "If you don't answer my question, I'll have to arrest you." He just completely ignored Oogie’s attempt at creating chaos.

 

Oogie backed up a bit, quite disappointed that his attempt to cause chaos hadn't gone to plan at all. Ah, well, he supposed he shouldn’t have expected much more from a machine. He stared Connor down intensely as if staring right into his soul (that is if androids had souls) and made a connection with his inorganic brain that went unnoticed by its owner. Then he stood and, with a smug smirk, kept his eyes locked with Connor's as he walked away and out the door of the bar.

Oogie opened the bar door and started to walk out, veeeerrry disappointed and a little irritated. Guess he'll have to go somewhere else to cause chaos.

 

Connor knew he should follow Oogie and get him to answer his questions, or even bring him to the precinct to do so, but he just...didn't. It wasn't that he physically couldn't, no, more like something in his programming had changed so that he was less motivated to complete his mission. Confused as he tried to figure out what he wanted to do, what he was supposed to do, Connor let Oogie walk away without struggle and he was lost in the crowds once more.

When Connor finally got up from his seat in the bar, Oogie was long gone. He made his way back out the front entrance with a stymied look on his face, just as an automated cab pulled up in front and three familiar faces emerged. "Nines? Why are you here?"

Nines' eyes lit up when he saw Connor. "Hello, Connor. These two wanted to get out of the house." He gestured to R and Hook, who got out of the car after him. "What are _you_ doing here?"

 

"I was...investigating something. I tracked a suspect here, but it turns out he left a few hours ago." Now Connor knew for sure that something was wrong with him. He’d just lied about his case, to his brother of all people! He would have to run a diagnostic the next chance he got.

 

Oogie had been just about to turn the corner when he noticed that Hook and R had arrived at and were about to walk into the bar. Not wanting to miss out on anything fun, he decided to go back to the bar. He casually walked past them, lightly snapping his fingers behind his back to make sure that Connor wouldn't bother him.

 

Nines gave Connor a look of slight sympathy. "Oh. Well, I have to go inside and keep an eye on my charges. Good luck with your case." He then followed Grantaire and Hook inside the bar, leaving Connor outside, frowning to himself.

  


Grantaire let Hook lead the way into the bar, not even noticing that Nines hadn't followed right away as it had stopped to speak with the other android. He looked around the place, a little uncomfortable with how...well established the place seemed to be; he was used to much smaller, more niche and occasionally seedy places, but he went with it anyway. They took seats at the bar and Taire was silent, almost hoping that Hook would buy them drinks; he was even more broke now than he had been the first night they'd met.

 

As they took their seats up at the bar, Hook ordered them each a glass of rum (obviously) without a second thought.

 

Grantaire glanced over at him with a little appreciative half-smile and thanked him quietly as he took a long drink. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nines enter the place, but he opted to ignore the android for the moment. Then he set his glass down and turned to face Hook. "Okay, be straight with me. Do you really not know anything about modern technology? If you've been faking it or playing dumb I'm going to hurt you." He warned, his expression serious but his tone much lighter, although not quite joking.

 

"Hurt me? I'd love to see you try. And no, I’m not joking, I have no idea about it. Pirate, remember? I’m from the Enchanted Forest, it doesn't exist there." Hook answered, drinking his rum and not quite turning to face R.

 

R scowled. "Right. If I'm gonna help explain this to you the least you could do is drop this act." He took another drink.

 

"What act?" Hook asked, narrowing his eyes in slight suspicion at the fact that Grantaire had brought up that term again.

 

"This whole 'Enchanted Forest' thing." The younger answered in a tone that suggested that was _OBVIOUS_.

 

"What about it? I could take you someday if you’d like?" Hook suggested, still unsure why R thought he was joking.

 

R looked irritated. "It isn't _real_. I'm not stupid." He glared, offended.

 

"It is real!" Hook slammed his fist on the table, growing angry himself.

 

Taire glared at him for a moment, debating whether he should concede to avoid another fight or make it apparent to Hook that he wasn't going to believe any of his bullshit. "Fine. Whatever. Let's say it's real. I'm not going to believe a word of it until I see proof, then. Can we leave it at that?"

 

"Fine, well I can’t show you until the police robots aren’t with us and I get my ship back."

 

It struck R as odd how completely serious Hook sounded, and there was the tiniest flicker of doubt in his mind. But he shook it off and returned to his drink. "Alright, fine." He took a swig. "Y'know, sometimes you talk like you're from another time. There are times I could swear you must've come from the 20-teens before I was born, and other times you talk like you came out of a history textbook or a fairytale or something."

 

"I was born in 1811." Hook replied flatly and completely seriously. He took another drink of rum, glancing over to Grantaire.

 

Grantaire stared at him, not even sure what to say to that. He tilted his head a little as he studied Hook's face, honestly trying to decide whether or not he was crazy. However, after what felt like he’d been staring a little too long he quickly looked away again and took another drink.

 

Hook watched Grantaire, confused as to why he didn’t seem to believe him. He, too, took another drink, then looked around the bar to see who all was there.

  


Oogie was lurking in the shadows in the darkest corner of the bar, which was a bit strange; they should really fix their lighting...but anyway. Oogie was watching Hook and R from the shadows, waiting for something entertaining to happen and prepared to do it himself if he was kept waiting too long.

  


"You at least have to be familiar with how ebooks work, right?" Grantaire gestured over his shoulder to a man at a booth behind them who was holding a glowing tablet-like object in his hand, although the entire thing appeared to be a screen rather than a hardware back like a smartphone or tablet.

 

"Uh…? I know this kind of book," The pirate paused and pulled a small paper book out of an inner pocket of his leather coat. He opened it, skimming through the pages. "It’s filled with different pirate stories and such." He clarified, turned back to stare at the man holding the tablet book thing. "That just looks like a larger version of the bloody talking devices." Hook grumbled and took another swig of rum.

 

Grantaire stared at him blankly for a long moment, blinking more than average. He sighed and shook his head, turning back to face the bar and grumbling, "Fuck, I'm not drunk enough for this yet." Then he promptly grabbed his glass and downed the rest of the contents in one gulp, which was about half of the glass. He waved the barista over and ordered another.

 

"Drunk enough for what? What did I do?" Hook asked, confused not only by the 'book' but also as to why Grantaire seemed upset with him. He took another drink of rum, looking around the bar at all the people, getting a feel for everyone who was there-- basically reading all the people, taking note of exits and so on and so forth.

 

"Nothing. I'm not drunk enough to take on the task of explaining all of technology for you." R took a long drink from his freshly re-filled glass then set it down in front of him and sighed. "Alright. Let's do this." He turned to Hook and began explaining in painstaking detail every piece of technology he could think of: smartphones, tablets, laptops, ebooks, smart televisions, automated cars, home AI systems—all except for androids. As a couple of hours went by, they both got drunker and Grantaire's explanations began to make slightly less sense.

 

Hook followed along with the explanations as best as he could as they both got more drunk, and everything Grantaire was saying started to become blurred. He just silently nodded, pretending like he totally understood everything he was being told. He drank more, allowing it, or using the conversation as an excuse to have it 'help' with understanding. Even though it really didn’t, and if anything only made it worse.

 

At a certain point, Taire had trailed off from what he'd been saying and neither of them had seemed to notice for several minutes until he'd already forgotten what he'd been talking about. R happened to glance out the front window of the bar, over Hook's shoulder, and his eyes widened a little. "Well fuck you too, Detroit." He grumbled, slightly slurred, watching the thickening snow blow around.

 

"What?" Hook looked confused before looking out the window. "What wrong with snow, mate?" He asked, not seeing the problem.

 

"It's cold and inc'nvenient. And in Detroit, snow means ice." He groaned. "The bottom layer of snow becomes ice, somethin' about all the concrete. Then it gets covered up by more snow. 'S like it's TRYING to make you fall an' break your fuckin' neck." His expression was something between a grimace and a pout, and his speech was less clear than when he was sober. R shook his head and took another drink, finishing yet another glass. How many had they had? Eh, who cares, counting was too hard anyway.

 

"Well, I don’t mind the snow." Hook shrugged and took another draw of the rum and set it down. By the tone of his voice, it was obvious that he was reeeeeaaaaaaaaaalllyyy drunk.

 

Grantaire's pout worsened and he turned to look at Hook rather than at the snow out the window. "Then I'm holding you pers-nonal...pers..." He fumbled, trying to remember how to say the word he meant, "I blame you if I slip an' fall on my ass on the ice out there."

 

"I could push you. Then you’d have a valid reason to blame me. But I’m not the one who made it snow, mate." He quirked an eyebrow at Grantaire, looking to him as he glared at him.

 

R stuck out his tongue at Hook like a child. "You're a snow-synathizer." He didn't even notice that he'd fudged up the word this time, assuming that he'd gotten his point across well enough.

 

Hook rolled his eyes and shrugged, not knowing what Grantaire had meant as his hearing was off by being drunk, in addition to the fact that Taire's words were slurred. He assumed it was some sort of insult, but couldn’t tell for sure so brushed it off.

 

Nines, who had since joined them, took note of how drunk they were getting and turned to the bartender. "Excuse me, how much is their tab up to?" He motioned in the direction of R and Hook, who were still talking with extremely slurred words.

"$15.80," came the reply. Nines took that into account, and then looked back down at R and Hook, and saw how wasted they were.

"Excuse me," He tapped each of them on the shoulder to get their attention. "It's getting late, we should probably get you two home."

 

R couldn't think of a reason why Nines's suggestion was a BAD idea...he wasn't thinking the most clearly and guessed that whatever Nines said was probably right. So he shrugged and started to stand up. He'd apparently had more than he realized, because he immediately swayed on his feet and grabbed a fist-full of the shoulder of Hook's jacket, which happened to be the closest thing at the moment, to steady himself.

 

Hook gave Nines a confused stare for a minute, before watching Grantaire get up and almost fall backward. He stayed still, pretty much just confusedly drunk, when Grantaire had grabbed his leather coat, which didn't really put Hook off balance in his chair. However, he knew it might if he stood up, so he just stayed sitting there until Grantaire could regain his balance.

 

Once he was more or less balanced again, Taire still didn't let go of Hook's coat. "Might fall over, holdon... S'rry," He apologized, not sounding genuine. R glanced back out the front window of the bar and grimaced at the thick snow, pulling his overcoat on a little tighter with his one free hand.

 

Nines stepped in and offered his arm to R for the moment. "Do you need help steadying yourself?"

 

Grantaire scowled and waved Nines off. "Nah, 'm fine, I can walk fine myself," He insisted in direct contradiction of his previous statement. Trying to prove it, he let go of Hook's shoulder to brush his coat off indignantly, however, he immediately swayed a little.

 

Hook quirked an eyebrow, watching the exchange between Nines and R, then watching R stumble again. "C’mon, mate, it’s not that hard." He said, standing up and becoming a bit dizzy, but, as per usual, he was able to stand balanced as he was used to having to maneuver his way through bars and stuff while drunk.

 

Grantaire was outraged that Hook, who was just as drunk as he was, could stand stably on his own. "Oh, fuck you," He complained, deciding that if Hook was gonna be so infuriatingly balanced, R would take advantage of that. He grabbed Hook's coat again, relying on him to keep from falling over.

 

Out of natural instinct and not having a clear head, he replied instantly to Grantaire’s 'oh, fuck you' with, "Oh that'll come later, mate," Not realizing that he had just said that to a guy, let alone Grantaire, the guy he had previously kissed, and if he was being honest, he'd almost kind of enjoyed it.

  


Oogie, still _totally_ **_not_ ** creepily stalking them, was not disappointed by the free entertainment. "Hehehe," Oogie laughed to himself, thinking how they would make a great couple.

  


Grantaire made a face and rolled his eyes. "Mhm," He mumbled, not paying attention to his words—if you can call a vague noise of agreement a word—either. He gripped Hook's arm for stability and pointed forward, toward the door. "Walk. You lead," He commanded.

 

Hook smirked. “If you insist," he said and walked out the door of the bar, pulling Grantaire behind him.

 

Grantaire shivered against the bitter chill that met them when they exited the bar, holding Hook closer by his arm for warmth, and whined a complaint at the snow. "I thought alcohol was supposed to warm you up. How're you so... _chill_ ," He griped. "You drank as much as I did! An’ you can walk! An’ you're not _coooold_!! It's not fair," He curled even closer into Hook's side as a particularly icy wind went right through his cheap overcoat.

 

"I'm just used to it. I live, well, lived, on a ship, remember? I've crossed oceans far colder than this." He replied, looking back to Grantaire who was clinging to his coat.

 

"Crazy person. Sounds miserable." R grumbled. "I've lived in Maine since I was 11, an' this shit's still too cold for me." As they walked, Grantaire's foot found a patch of ice on the sidewalk that was concealed by a layer of snow and with his sense of balance already inhibited, he slipped and almost fell. "Fuck–!"

 

"Oh, Maine, Maine wasn’t that bad. Except that my ex-wife lives there. But I don't think it’s–" He got cut off when Grantaire slipped and almost pulled him down. "Bloody hell, mate, watch your step!" He growled, not really wanting to eat ice that night.

 

"Ugh, et vas te faire foutre aussi." The younger mumbled at the ice under his breath, wrapping his arm tightly around Hook's in an effort at better balance. "S'rry." He apologized to Hook. "Ex-wife?" R looked up at him, intrigued.

 

Hook rolled his eyes. "Aye, ex-wife. Now come on, let's go before you actually drag us to the ground," He said, continuing leading Taire down the sidewalk.

 

R sneered, although not all that seriously. "C'mon, 'm not THAT–" However, his protest was unfortunately timed as at that moment he crossed over another patch of hidden ice. He slipped and came much closer to going down this time, giving a small shriek-like noise. He grabbed at the collar of Hook's jacket and ended up in an odd and slightly awkward position; one arm around Hook's neck and the other hand gripping part of the shoulder of his jacket, leaning at an angle having just barely saved himself from falling.

 

Hook fumbled a bit as Grantaire was slipping until he grabbed his jacket and caught himself. He focused on keeping his balance not only to prevent falling in general but also to keep from falling ON Grantaire.

 

"Uhh, hah, sorry..." He apologized, a little awkwardly, looking up at Hook with a sort of strange smile. "Told you the ice hides," He tittered, almost nervously.

 

"Mhm..." Hook rolled his eyes and stood Grantaire up straight. "Well, find it and avoid it," he said in response to his 'ice hides' comment.

 

"Yeah, like that's so easy," Taire complained, suddenly looking around them. "Wait, where's the android? Did we leave it behind?"

 

Nines had gotten sidetracked by a bug on the door to the bar on the way out, but as soon as he heard that comment, he rushed over to their side. "Sorry. I got distracted."

 

R made a face. "Androids aren't s'pposed to do that. Just, like, randomly get distracted. You're weird. It's like you’re a person sometimes." He thought aloud, strangely enough not seeming all that bothered by that idea as most people would've been. "Hey," He poked Hook's arm to get his attention. "I didn't explain androids with all the other techy stuff. Eh, I'll do that later."

 

In response to Grantaire's comment about how androids aren't supposed to get distracted, Nines apologized again. "I'm sorry, it won't happen again."

 

"Nah, man, you're chill." He paused in thought for a minute. "What if you're, like, turning _into a person_. IS that a thing? Can androids do that? I dunno, but tha'd be kinda cool, right? You'd be a person an' stuff but you'd also have all the fancy robot brain things." At that point in his rambling speech he tripped on another, luckily much smaller ice patch this time, and trailed off with a little "oof" noise.

 

Nines reached out to aid Hook in a steadying R. "I'm not a deviant."

 

R looked highly confused. "A what now?" His eyes widened. "WAIT, is that the name for it?? It’s a real thing?!" He gasped. "IT IS! That’s...INSANE! How– wait, why isn't this on the news, then!?" He exclaimed, practically shouting and nearly flipping out, clearly very excited about the prospect.

 

Nines stopped responding, figuring with his new shortened attention span, R would forget about it in a few minutes.

 

Unfortunately for Nines and his mis-speech, R continued to ramble and flip the fuck out about the idea of androids "becoming alive" as they walked.

 

Hook looked confused, not understanding the whole 'techy' talk stuff but still noticed R’s drunkenness. "Okay, mate. We better get you home." He said, supporting R’s weight to keep him from falling while he was rambling about random shit.

 

Taire sighed and allowed himself to lean on Hook. "Damn, you're so _nice_ sometimes, why're you a dick other times?" He asked, not even hearing the words coming out of his mouth anymore. "Et, vous ê'es aussi très chau', et ce n'est pas juuuus'e. Comme, je ne devrais pas penser que parce que tu es un 'bruti grossier," His rambling abruptly switched to slightly slurred French.

 

Hook rolled his eyes, choosing to ignore Grantaire’s calling him a dick since he was so drunk. He couldn't understand the other language Grantaire was speaking, so he didn’t reply at all and just continued walking.

 

Hidden in the snow just under where they were about to step was a huge pothole that had happened to be filled with wet slush until it began snowing. With the lower temperature, it was now a particularly nasty sheet of ice that neither could see under the blanket of snow, but that their shoes would have no problem finding. Grantaire set one foot on the surface of the ice and went down, ending up flat on his back and getting the breath knocked out of him for a half-second. However, in the process, he had grabbed Hook's jacket again, and even he wasn't able to keep his balance as he was now standing on the ice himself.

 

Hook tried to keep his balance as Grantaire slipped and grabbed him, taking him down in the process and causing him to fall almost directly on top of the shorter man.

  


Oogie, who had still been following them in the cold with a huge warm cup of coffee in his hands, took a big gulp of his drink and promptly spit it out as he choked on a laugh. He only briefly considered intervening with the hilarious interaction, coughing as quietly as he could. He quietly snickered in the background as he watched them.

"Oh, this is getting good," He whispered to himself in amusement.

  


R gulped a little when he noted how startlingly close their faces were in this position. The corners of his mouth twitched with the faintest ghost of a smile. "Uh, s-sorry 'bout that..." His words were less slurred but still mumbled, considering that falling in a pile of snow with someone on top of you, much less someone you've kissed before, is guaranteed to cause you to suddenly sober up a bit.

 

"Uh, yeah..." Hook said, looking down at Grantaire and not really moving from the position of laying on top of him, just kind of awkwardly watching him while pinning him to the ground.

 

Grantaire's cheeks flushed a bit, although whether it was from the cold, the alcohol, or something else, he didn't know. There was a tense pause between them, the kind of heavy momentary silence that could lead to a number of possibilities. R could tell that the tension was shared based on the look on Hook's face, and _right_ before he was sure that something was about to happen, the moment was interrupted. A fat snowflake drifted directly into Grantaire's eye at that very moment, and he gasped in pain and pressed the heel of his hand hard over his eye. "Gah– fhshit!!" It felt like being stabbed in the eye, but colder.

 

Killian looked confused as the snowflake fell into Taire's eye. So he sat up, sitting in the snow without being really affected by it. "What? What’s wrong mate?" He asked, reaching out his hand in an effort to help out but not knowing what need helping.

 

R accepted the hand and sat up in the snow next to Hook, still rubbing at his eye. "Fuckin' snowflake flew into my eye..." He muttered. When he finally put his hand down and blinked a couple of times to clear his vision, he focused on Hook's confused face and smiled a little. "Think I'm good," he tittered.

 

"Oh, okay, good." He returned the smile back to him, then he stood up carefully. Lending a hand to Grantaire, he gently pulled him up off the ground, as well.

 

Taire accepted his help, standing a little unsteadily on the ice and feeling his shoes slide a little, but managing nonetheless. "Thanks." He didn't let go of Hook's hand until he'd stepped back onto what he was sure was solid, non-icy cement.

 

Hook nodded a ‘you’re welcome’, watching him to make sure he was able to stand again. "Well, mate, if you’re done exploring the ground, I think it’s best if we head back to your apartment." He smirked and looked to wherever Nines was because they just HAD to have him with them.

 

Grantaire snorted and agreed quietly. "C'mon, Nines." He held onto Hook's arm again for balance and spotted a cab a little way down the street. "Head that way," He told Hook as he pointed to it.

 

Nines put a hand on each of their shoulders to keep them from falling down again, and he hailed the cab as they started toward it. The automated car pulled up next to them and the doors slid open, inviting them inside.

 

R climbed in first, partially dragging Hook in after him by his arm, and then waited for Nines to get in and program the GPS—he didn't think he'd be able to figure it out in his current state.

 

After helping the two of them into the cab, Nines input the location in the GPS and the car started on its way back to Grantaire's apartment. When they arrived, Nines helped Hook and R again to get out and opened the front door for them.

 

Hook crawled out of the car, slipping a little as he stepped down, then continued to stumble a little as they walked back to the apartment; he _was_ still drunk, after all, and stairs were fickle things.

 

Grantaire, miraculously, managed not to trip on the way out of the car and up to his apartment, but he was still clearly intoxicated. "It's kinda creepy how you can just unlock my door like that," he told Nines, though as less of a complaint and more of an observation. Apparently out of habit, R still absentmindedly gripped the sleeve of Hook's jacket, even though he needed less help balancing now that they were inside.

 

Nines frowned in confusion at Grantaire's comment, his spinning LED flickering yellow, but he didn't say anything about it as he closed the door behind the three of them.

 

R looked around the place as a thought occurred to him. "Oh." He faced Hook. "So uh...I guess you can crash on the couch? I don't really have anything else..." He shrugged. "I'm serious, I don't even have a bed," And he gestured with a thumb to the door of his bedroom.

 

Hook shrugged. "Well I'm sure we could both fit on the mattress if we tried," he quirked an eyebrow. "Nines needs somewhere to sleep too.” He hadn’t quite grasped the fact that androids don’t sleep. “Besides, I'm not a fan of couches." He gave a disgusted look at the couch.

 

Nines interjected. "I don't sleep." He looked around the room. "I have to guard you, and I cannot do that if I'm in stasis."

 

"Maybe another time," R told him dryly after a noise of agreement with Nines. With a small, wry smile he walked, slightly unevenly, past Hook to the small kitchen area and grabbed a glass.

 

Hook opened his mouth, almost gasping in offense, as Grantaire turned him down. He glared at Nines for having spoken up and followed R to the kitchen. "Come on, mate, you can’t leave a pirate out on the couch, God knows what would happen." He smirked.

 

Grantaire turned around to face Hook again, a dubious look on his face. "What, are you going to rob me? I can tell you right now that there's literally nothing of value in this entire apartment, even if you could manage to do so with a cop here." He took a long sip of his water, grabbing another glass and wordlessly offering to fill one for Hook, too.

 

Hook slid his glass over for Grantaire to fill. "Perhaps." He shrugged. "A pirate can’t share all his secrets, can he?"

 

Taire turned on the tap and filled the glass halfway, handing it back to him. "I suppose not. Although it worries me a little to think what you would end up doing unsupervised here if you’re not stealing anything." R eyed Hook suspiciously, the tiny wry smile still barely perceptible on his lips.

 

"There’s plenty I could do without anyone noticing, mate." Hook assured him, taking a drink of the water and scowling at it for not being alcohol.

 

"I'm sure," Grantaire mumbled disbelievingly. With a few more swigs he had finished his water and set the glass in the sink. "You're not really gonna put up a fight over sleeping on the couch, are you?" He asked, almost a complaint.

 

"Mm, well, I sort of already am, aren’t I?" Hook pointed out, more rhetorically than anything. "We could fight in other ways if you’d prefer." He drank the water and slid the glass over to put in the sink.

 

Grantaire stood there for a moment, studying him with a _look_ . He hadn't thought to before, but he considered whether or not Hook might be genuinely flirting with him rather than just trying to annoy him. It was POSSIBLE... After all, if he was just trying to annoy him, he probably would not have been quite so helpful and sweet during that rather embarrassing walk back from the bar. He shook his head, ultimately dismissing the possibility as he set the glass in the sink. " _Goodnight_ , Killian." R told him with a tone of finality. However, he didn't make any move to actually go to bed.

 

Killian raised an eyebrow. "Goodnight? You’re off to bed so soon?" He noticed Grantaire didn’t move. "It's quite early, don’t you think? Stay up a bit longer with me, there’s tons we could still do," He winked, smirking slightly.

 

R pressed his lips together tightly. "Mm, I don't know about that." But he was right that it was still fairly early. He glanced over Hook's shoulder to the living room area, then back to his face. "What did you have in mind?" He let himself smirk a little, speaking a little quieter in trying to make sure Nines stayed out of the conversation.

 

"Whatever you want," Hook said, leaning on the counter towards Grantaire. "It is your house after all."

 

Taire leaned over the counter a little, too, in response. "Yet you're the one here insisting that there's plenty still to do." There was still a small, coy smirk on his face. “I might have an idea, though.”

 

"And what’s that?" Hook asked, noting Grantaire’s expression. He once again raised his eyebrow, curiously this time, wondering what plans Grantaire might have. Of course, he was up for anything.

 

R grabbed Hook's wrist and brought him out to the living room area. He sat him down on the couch, then disappeared into his room for a minute, leaving the door open just enough for it to be audible that he was looking for something in a drawer. The task seemed to take him a strangely long time, longer than it should have been, but after a few minutes, he returned to the room with a notebook in his hand. Suddenly a little awkward and almost shy, he asked Hook, "Do you mind if I draw you?”

 

Hook confusedly stumbled to the couch as R, rather forcefully sat him there then left the room. He gave a strange look to really just the door at the noises he was hearing. Until Grantaire returned with a more shy demeanor and made his request. "D-draw me??" He asked, slightly shocked to learn that Grantaire was a) an artist and b) wanted to draw _him_.

 

Grantaire's lips twitched in the beginning of a smile, still with a little reservation. "Yeah. It's a lot of sitting still, but I think you'd make a good model for it. And I won't do anything too detailed or extensive, so it won't take too long." He promised quickly. As he spoke, he fidgeted with the end of the pencil which was inside the spiral of the notebook.

 

"Alright, sure...but if you mess up my face," Hook warned teasingly with a small, playful glare. He leaned back on the couch, getting comfortable and watching Grantaire mess with the pencil.

 

"I promise I will," Grantaire teased with a challenging leer. He dragged a chair from the kitchen out to the living room to sit in front of the couch. "Try not to move too much." He requested as he put the pencil to the paper, keeping the notebook tilted slightly towards himself so that Hook couldn't see his progress.

 

Hook nodded in acknowledgment of the command, raising his eyebrow slightly as he tilted the notebook upward so he couldn’t see. He returned to his position and stayed still while watching Taire draw him.

 

As Grantaire focused on the drawing and let everything but the paper and Hook disappear from his mind, the expression that came over his face was one of perfectly serene concentration. It seemed that he was finally in his element, doing exactly what he was always meant to do, the one thing he could always count on: art. There were short periods of time where he looked up from his notebook just to stare at Hook intently, memorizing every contour of his face before recording it in graphite. He was putting more time and care into this than he did with most of his pencil sketches because he felt that his subject deserved it. So for what could've been minutes or hours—R wouldn't have known the difference—he was silent and wholly focused on the drawing.

 

Hook continued sitting quietly—surprisingly still, too, for a drunken pirate—almost falling asleep at one point from the silence and calmness. When he noticed, he said to Nines, "Heyyy, put on that noise you play from the musical box thing." He slurred his words a little and thought that some sort of noise would help keep him awake, and hoped Nines would know what he was talking about.

 

Nines turned to face the stereo, connecting to it wirelessly and turning on the song "Dress" by Taylor Swift.

 

Grantaire rolled his eyes as the music came on without even looking up from his notebook. If he wasn't careful with this android, he feared he might actually grow accustomed to this shit. "What's your deal with this lady?" He asked Nines while he continued to focus only on the drawing.

 

"I like this music."

 

"I like it too," Hook smiled at Grantaire; seemingly the music annoyed him. And while Hook wasn’t the biggest fan of it either, mainly because this type of music was new to him, he didn’t hate it. And for some reason, annoying Grantaire was something he enjoyed. Not just because he was a dick—I mean, he was, but that's beside the point—but more because Grantaire’s reactions were amusing.

 

" _Why_ , though?" He asked as he looked back up at Hook. "I mean, this is the kind of stuff that was going out of style in America when I was like _five_ . And that's saying something, considering how bad American taste is, _especially_ in music." R shook his head.

 

Hook shrugged. "It's better than music in the Enchanted Forest."

 

Grantaire gave him an unimpressed look. "Right. Well, if you want to hear some _real_ old-fashioned music..." He smirked, adding another careful line to the drawing. Glancing back up at Hook, he studied his face again, perhaps for a moment longer than he needed to.

 

Hook quirked an eyebrow. "Really? What is it?" He started to move to get up before realizing that Grantaire might still be drawing and quickly re-positioning to the pose he was in for the drawing.

 

R's smirk brightened. "Hey, Nines, could you put on the song Tostaky by Noir Désir?" His tone was smug as he now transitioned to used the side of his pencil tip to add shading to his drawing, still keeping the notebook tilted toward himself and hidden from the eyes of everyone else in the apartment.

 

Nines' eyes flickered with disappointment, but he turned and put on the song that Grantaire requested.

 

Hook looked confused as the song played because he didn’t understand French, and thought they were speaking in complete gibberish. "What the hell is this, mate? You understand them?" He asked, almost concerned as to why Grantaire knew this.

 

Nines automatically translated the lyrics as he heard them, then turned to Hook. "It's French." He informed him and looked at Grantaire. "You were born in France."

 

Grantaire had a slightly nostalgic grin on his face, and he nodded. "French rock." He responded, singing quietly along with a few lines. " _Et ils envoient ça aux étoiles..._ " He added another patch of shading to the drawing. "I grew up listening to this stuff. It was kind of dated even then, but this has been one of my mom's favourites for as long as I can remember."

 

"What’s French? France?" Hook’s confusion only grew, as he had never been outside of the USA in the real world and he'd yet to meet anyone from outside of the country; the most experience he had with French was the fact that it was the last name of a friend of his.

 

"Another country. Across the ocean in Europe." By this point, Grantaire was just so tired of freaking out over how little Hook knew of the world, or maybe it was the song that had put him in a better mood, so he just answered him. "Where I was born and lived for the first ten years of my life." He was nearly done with the drawing at this point, just adding a few extra final details as he glanced back and forth between Hook's face and the notebook, but he didn't say anything to let them know.

 

"Oh. Maybe I can take you back sometime." Hook suggested while giving Grantaire a weird look as he glanced between the notebook and his face.

 

The nostalgia on his face was stronger, but he looked less happy as he shrugged. "Eh. There's nothing there for me now. Just good memories." The smile was gone from his face, his expression a mask of concentration for a moment, then he quickly changed the topic as he sat back and announced. "There, done." He handed the notebook to Hook to let him see the drawing.

 

 

Hook took the drawing and looked at it with wide eyes. "You must be some kind of magician, mate!" He said as the drawing was so spot on and he'd never seen a portrait so detailed and exact up close before.

 

Grantaire shrugged sheepishly. "I've been drawing for a long time. I could do better if I were painting, but I don't have any more blank canvases." He smiled a little. "You can keep it if you like, or if not it'll just stay in that notebook."

 

"Yeah, yeah I'll keep it." Killian smiled, looking between Grantaire and the drawing a couple of times, then getting up and handing the notebook to R so he could tear out the drawing out. Because, you know, being a one-handed pirate, he didn’t want to rip the paper in the wrong place.

 

Taire took the notebook and carefully pulled the paper out, then grabbed his pencil and labeled it _'Killian Jones, Oct.14, 2038'_. Finally, he signed it, adding a cursive capital R hidden on the side of the drawing; only those who knew it was there and to look for it would see it. Then he handed the drawing over to Hook.

 

Hook took the drawing and looked at what he wrote, then put it in one of the inner pockets of his coat. "Thanks, mate."

 

Grantaire shrugged modestly. "Now will you go to bed? I saw you falling asleep while I was drawing, don't try to deny it."

 

"I– wha– I was not! You saw wrong." Hook said, glaring at Grantaire.

 

R snorted and shook his head. "Right." He stood up and stretched a little, that gesture seeming definitive, and he stared up at Hook with a look somewhere between expectant and annoyed.

 

"What, I wasn’t." He insisted as he stood from the sofa, looking down at Grantaire and still glaring.

 

R gave him a look. "It's practically the middle of the night already, and we're both drunk. Hangovers are gonna be a bitch tomorrow either way, but they'll only be worse the later we stay up. Will you please stop acting like a child and go to bed already?" He huffed but was unable to keep the amused undertone out of his voice.

 

"What are you going to do if I don’t?" Hook replied with a challenging tone and giving him a devious look.

 

Grantaire glared back. "Nothing, you're going to listen to me because you're in my apartment, and if you don't I'll just ask Nines to knock you out. What more could you _possibly_ want from me, a goodnight kiss??" He was pretty much just plain annoyed now, and seriously considering giving up and going to bed whether or not Hook was. Who cared what he did while R was sleeping? The place was already a shithole.

 

Hook raised an eyebrow. "Are you hitting on me?" He asked, smirking.

 

R scowled. "Quite the opposite. It's this little thing called sarcasm, you might've heard of it." He deadpanned, sarcastically.

 

"Ah yes, I’m quite aware of sarcasm," Hook assured him patronizingly, with a slight smirk. "It’s a shame, I’m sure a 'goodnight kiss' would be exactly the thing to help me fall asleep."

 

Taire rolled his eyes and cross his arms, staring up at Hook with an almost expectant look. He didn't say anything, didn't know what to say, or whether or not Hook was serious.

 

Hook quirked an eyebrow, staring down at Grantaire. "So, that’s a no? Well, then we’d better find another 'activity' to do, because without a goodnight kiss...well, let’s just say there won’t be any good-night about it." In his drunken state, Hook could care less about just _who_ he was flirting with, and would just do so with anyone. Persistently. And he had no intention of going to sleep or letting R do the same without a kiss-- or more --happening. He leaned closer to Grantaire and in a low, rough voice, said, "Unless, of course, you change your mind about that kiss."

 

Grantaire didn't look away, scowling as Hook spoke, but found them startlingly close as the pirate leaned in. He was tired and a bit irritable, and under any other circumstances probably would've slapped him. But he didn't have the patience for it at this very moment, and in something in him decided that there was only one way to end this.

With a short resigned noise that was slightly more than a sigh, he surged an inch or so forward on his tiptoes until their lips met in a chaste kiss.

 

Hook hadn’t expected Grantaire to _actually_ kiss him, so when he did, the pirate was a bit more than surprised. It took him a moment to process that what he thought was happening, was actually happening, and once he realized it was he, of course, kissed back.

 

Grantaire's face flared with heat, and as he fought the urge to melt into the kiss, he decided he wouldn't allow that and stepped back just as abruptly as he'd started it. His face was flaming red and he shook his head a little as if to clear the slight dreamy haze he felt he was under. "There. You got your kiss. Goodnight." And with that he retired rather hurriedly to his room, closing the door behind him.

 

Hook stood frozen still for a minute while Grantaire left, still processing what had just happened. When R closed the door he sat down on the couch, still a bit confused by the homosexual happenings of this night. He eventually laid down and fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All credit to the actual artist of Grantaire's drawing, whoever that may be, because they really deserve it. It's gorgeous.


End file.
